Chuck vs The Terminatrix
by Armadilloi
Summary: Read by 2/28. It will be deleted.
1. Naked Erector Set Barbie

_A/N: OK, there might be a little Charah, but not right now. I want to see what happens between Chuck and the machine and the interaction between her and his family and handlers. And since I semi-rehabbed the RatBastard in my last fic I might use him for the Greater Good once again, but not sure. Bear with me. The effects of last evening's discussions with the 3 J's has clouded my posting skills ergo this 2nd 'new' story. Sorry for the fubar._

* * *

Chuck vs the Terminatrix

**Burbank, CA  
Resistance Bunker  
2020**

"The process is energizing, Bryce. There's still time to back out, send another. You don't have to do this. He's already told you it will create a paradox that may have disastrous consequences. The fact that we're here, now, tells us that this will fail, has failed. He was your best friend and my husband but he would not have condoned throwing your life away to try and save him from his fate."

"But if I hadn't sent him the damned intersect in the first place none of this would have happened. 6 billion people would still be alive. _He_ would still be alive."

We can't go back that far, Bryce. Tachyon physics has limitations. We're dangerously close to that limit right now. The second Holocaust is an historical fact, Bryce, we can't change it. Chuck's gone and with him went our one best hope of defeating SkyNet."

"I have to try."

He was gone in a flash of light, never to return.

* * *

**Burbank, CA  
2007**

Chuck had just completed folding up all the shipping cartons that his subordinates had shoved into every nook and cranny of the warehouse unit in the back of the BuyMore and had palletized them for pickup by the recycling service. Tomorrow he'd have words with his subordinates. Strong words. Not that it would do any good. Some things never change.

As he was walking back to the loading dock a strong hot wind sprang up and blew through the alley. Electrical discharges struck the metal barriers and dumpsters. A bright sphere of light appeared and Chuck was mesmerized. He couldn't move. It was a combination of fascination with a very unnatural phenomena and near-crapping-in-his-pants fear. The sphere grew brighter and hotter and expanded to twice it's original diameter and then exploded without sound or energy. He stared at the spot where the sphere had been and was startled to see a young woman kneeling in its place. She had long brown hair and was totally bare-assed naked.

He took off his jacket and knelt down beside the woman and draped the jacket across her shoulders.

"Hey, are you alright?" No response. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPhone to call 911 and then alert his teammates. A warm hand covered his and an angelic voice said "No, no calls. I need to find Professor Charles Bartowski. Take me to him. Now," and she closed her hand over his and squeezed.

"I'm Chuck Bartowski. I need to call 911 and get you some help."

"No, we have to get out of here. Another may be coming through in pursuit. You are Professor Charles Bartowski, attended Stanford University and will be awarded the first doctorate in Theoretical Image Matrices; your AI programs form the basis of a system of defense called SkyNet; your Mark 3 Intersect Mutating AI will enable SkyNet to achieve awareness and in…"

"Who the hell are you? Are you Fulcrum? State your mission and agency." He'd heard Casey say that once to an infiltrator. Didn't get any response but it sounded cool as hell and he'd always wanted to say it."

"I am T-1015, Terminator, Intelligence Acquisition and Infiltration Unit, Female, Full Function. My mission is to locate Professor Bartowski and protect him from premature termination until 2015."

"Why? And why are you naked. Oh, shit, let's get you some clothes. You'll catch your death out here."

"This unit is hermetically sealed and is resistant to infestation by biological entities. My synthskin is fully functional from –40C to 85C. "

"Well, _I_ think you need clothes. You should not make yourself conspicuous. Bad for your cover. What's your name?"

"I am T-1015 Terminator, Intelligence Acquisition and Infiltra…"

"I got that. What's your name? Um, personal designation? What do I call you?"

"Anything you like. I am programmed to only follow your orders unless those orders contradict the orders given by my Executor."

"Do you have a preference? Any human name you heard that you liked?"

"No."

"God, you're a big help. Ok, T- 10, shit, you're Tina. Simple, short, not easily forgotten. Acceptable to you?"

"Of course, I shall respond to Tina. We should get away from this place. Pursuit is logical and I have no weapons with which to protect you, Professor Charles Bartowski."

"Um, just Chuck. Friends call me Chuck. Since you're here because of me, call me Chuck."

"Acceptable. My Executor told me as much. She said you did not put much stock in formality."

"Executor, what or who is that?"

"The human who reprogrammed me. She is the Executor of this unit. I was disabled while infiltrating a compound of the human resistance. She repaired me and reprogrammed my purpose."

Another gust of hot air hit the alley and loading dock. The electrical discharges started to build.

"We must leave. Another Terminator unit is in pursuit and I have no weapons."

"I can handle that. Follow me." He grabbed her hand and ran into the BuyMore and locked the dock doors.

He led her into the employee locker room and opened up his locker and pulled on the coat hook in the interior wall. The bay of lockers swung away revealing a small, narrow room with a ladder going down to the subbasement and the tunnel that led from the BuyMore to the Castle.

"You said you were infiltrating a resistance compound? What was your original mission?"

"To capture or kill the Human Intersect before he could infect SkyNet with a destructive virus that would corrupt its programs and render it inactive."

The irony was not lost on Chuck. His laugh was bitter. "It seems all the women in my life want to either control me or kill me." He wished he'd brought a flashlight. The 50 yard long tunnel was dark but a straight shot to the Castle. Hard to get lost.

"So, Term…, shit, sorry Tina, just how do we explain your presence in my life?"

"I am a fully-functional female. I can ingest human food, eliminate waste, and perform all bodily functions of the normal human female. If required, I can simulate menstruation. My blood type is A+ and my skin cells will appear completely human under all but examination via electron microscope. My hair will grow approximately ¼ inch per month provided I have ingested sufficient materials to produce the proteins and other compounds necessary for human hair growth and development. I can even have 'bad hair days' and split ends."

He stumbled in the dark corridor. He didn't see that one coming. It was black as the bottom of a well at midnight. Tina grabbed his upper arm and kept him from falling after tripping on his own feet.

"I am _fully_ functional, Chuck. I have pleasure/pain receptors and can 'enjoy' interactive physical contact through biofeedback although my experience is lacking in that area and I will require significant quantities of quality interaction to perfect my responses.

"I shall be your _real_ girlfriend, Chuck."

EndPrologueterminatrix2


	2. Toaster Ovens to Free Will to Blenders

Terminatrix2

_A/N: __**One tiny, itty-bitty thing I might have failed to mention: in this chapter and in a few in the future, Chuck and Sarah have had a major fight and all that remains is the shell of their relationship. I suppose in canon it would mean either a) her reassignment or b) his ass in a bunker. Neither will happen in this story so Charah fans keep the faith. Remember who's writing this and gird your girly loins. Yes, I used the Castle but I'm lazy and didn't want to recreate the Entertainment Center at the BuyMore or have my boy driving all over gathering goodies for his naked erector set as you shall see.**_

_OK. I have not seen the movies lately and I probably have the dates all mashed together inside out and backwards, so if I've offended any of you purists out there, get a grip. It's not like I put sugar in your gas tank, replaced your insulin with glucose or put a potato up your tailpipe. _

_Also, for those who absolutely __**have**__ to have visual references when reading character, this Tina is an amalgam of Torrey DeVito and a bunch of hunnies who hang around the boat basin. Cajun wimmens are beautiful until about 20ish then the pounds hang on, the moustaches sprout and they marry fishermen named Percivale or Boudreaux. S'truth.  


* * *

_Castle  
Burbank, CA  
January 2007

Chuck hit the lights for the Castle and used his memory to dredge up the details of the alarm system. Reading the manual paid bonuses. That's why he always told customers to read the instructions first.

Keying in the necessary codes took out the autodialed alarms to Casey and Walker. He absolutely and without question did not want to explain why he was in the Castle with a jacketed and …WHOA!

She was standing beside him now. He'd zipped up the windbreaker to offer her some modesty but now she was shedding it. He had never, ever, in his entire 27 years and 2 months of life seen a more exquisite creature. He almost thanked God but realized it would be near blasphemy. Better to thank Intel and Hamilton Beach. Or maybe US Robotics?

"I better see if Sarah's got anything here that will fit you. Please, um, stay right here. I'll be right back with something for you to wear." He had the ridiculous thought that she was 5 inches shorter than Sarah, more Ellie's size, and anything he'd find for her would be far too big. But 'Little Chuck' was suffering growing pains so Big Chuck decided to hurry with the clothes.

He opened Sarah's wall locker and found an entire wardrobe of outfits for doing anything from seducing the President of Russia to crawling through sewers to infiltrate a building. He grabbed a bunch of tops, slacks, a skirt or two but passed on the undies. He wasn't going to explain to Agent Sarah Walker, aka Queen of the Knives, how he happened to get into her knickers drawer. Tina would just have to go commando.

Chuck handed her a tank top, an overshirt and a very short skirt that on Sarah was mid-thigh or higher and on her would be demurely just above the knee. And a very nice knee it was. Perfect in fact. "CHUCK!" his inner nice-guy-don't-think-dirty-thoughts side screeched. "Concentrate. Focus on the task at hand."

"Tina, please put these on. Sorry about the lack of undergarments. We'll have to hit the mall on the way home and get some." Shit, home. How was he going to explain a sleepover on the first date? He'd worry about that after they got clothes and weapons.

Shoes. None that would fit her. Another item for the mall. She managed to get all the clothes on and everything looked… perfect. A little big, but nothing to attract undue attention.

Chuck ran back to Sarah's locker, removed a hairbrush and some scrunchies and returned to the workstation. Tina was now looking over some schematics of the Castle, paging though the file diagrams at an amazing speed. He shook his head when he realized that a machine was doing the browsing, not a person. Careful, Chuck, don't put personal labels on the machines.

He walked around behind her and started to brush her hair. What ever she'd passed through on her trip from up-time to now had turned it into a rat's nest. He ran the brush slowly through her long tresses and marveled again that the beautiful hair was artificial as was the entire being that it capped. He pulled it back into a ponytail and used one of the scrunchies to hold it like Ellie and Sarah would do.

"Ah, sorry for taking liberties, but this is more casual and you look just fine." Purse, must remember to get her a damned purse. Women carry lots of junk around. Of course, she'll probably have grenades, flame throwers or machine guns in hers. Maybe a _little_ purse.

The machine now known as Tina turned and looked at him as he went to a locker and keyed in a code. All humans are not like this one. This one is gentle. She accessed her memory files and pulled up records of the rapes at the resistance bunker. The laughter, the hatred. No, this one is different. She ran a thesaurus program and selected several appropriate words for her future use and reference; gentle as in caring, nice, sweet, courtly, courteous, kind. This one did not cause pain if avoidable. This one was…caring.

Chuck went to the weapons locker, keyed in a passcode, Casey's, and threw open the cabinet doors.

"Tina, take what you think you'll need. Ammo's back there, crated and loose, mags are all filled and arranged by caliber and weapon. I'll get you a duffel bag for them."

"Do you think you'll need explosives?" He was going to be hanging with the feminine version of Casey so he'd better anticipate her needs. Cigars? Nah, but maybe scotch. He could use a drink about now.

Chuck was carrying several bags of clothes back to the Herder. They'd been to The Gap, Old Navy and about every other clothing store known to women as well as Victoria's Secret where Tina and a sales clerk who looked like she could pose for Vogue at any minute went all girly-secretive. When they emerged and took Chuck's AMEX card to new heights of indebtedness Chuck realized that in all the times he and Agent Walker had 'faked-a-date' he had never actually enjoyed himself as much as he had tonight.

Tina had shown him each potential acquisition, inquired about how it looked, would it be acceptable to wear in this or that situation and finally, if he liked it. The entire decision process had been fun. He felt connected, that someone cared about his opinion and that his opinion mattered to Tina. She had only overruled him a couple of times and that was on the selection of a purse (she wanted large) and shoes (she didn't want to spend much of his money on high heels that she knew she'd hate to wear and probably wouldn't).

What did that say to him about Agent Sarah Walker and her opinion of one Chuck Bartowski? A frikkin' robot cared more for his opinion than did his human cover ex-girlfriend. He shouldn't have been overly surprised though. He always got along better with computers than people.

He put the bags in the rear of the Herder then hurried to open up her door. She looked at him with a look of mingled dismay and concern and… something that must have been a robotic thing.

"Um, sorry, it's just that a gentleman always opens the door for his lady. It's an old tradition, doesn't mean you're incapable of doing it yourself, well, you could probably tear the door off, get in and then weld it shut with an arc welder you keep in your fingertip but it's just how I am."

She slipped in to her seat, fastened the belt and waited for him.

When Chuck got into the car and had fastened his seat belt she leaned across the console and kissed him, a soft and gentle kiss, nothing robotic about it. His eyes were as big as the lids would allow. She looked at him and said sadly "Have I made a mistake? I thought a kiss was a good 'thank you, Chuck' for taking such wonderful care of me. I'm sorry if it was wrong of me. I will not do it again." She had accessed the protocols for human interaction after similar events and had applied the one that seemed most congruent with the parameters of the situation.

"NO, no, it was simply unexpected, not unwelcome. You're welcome. I liked shopping with you. For probably all the wrong reasons but I had a good time. I was surprised, that's all. Pleasantly. Nothing machine-like in your kiss, no offense. Don't listen to me, I'm prattling on. I do that when I'm nervous and around beautiful women. I mean…"

_My husband is… I mean, was, easily flustered by demonstrations of affection from women. Especially physical demonstrations like a hug or a kiss. Especially a kiss. He tended to ramble, to lose himself in his sentences until either he runs out of breath or you…_

She kissed him again. Softly, not aggressively, a kiss that said 'hello, I'm here. It's all right.'

When the kiss was done she could see that it had been the right action to take. It had stopped his meaningless talk, and his apology that was totally unnecessary and it had given her another insight into this human. Caring _and_ unpretentious.

The drive to the apartment was mostly in silence. For Chuck it was a time spent cataloguing actions and reactions and mentally pursuing a possible AI crawler for a project he'd been working on for some time. For the 'robot' it was time spent on scenarios and responses, weapons and tactics of choice. She had a man to protect. Her prime reason for being was Chuck Bartowski, human intersect and Father of SkyNet.

* * *

Casa Bartowski  
Burbank CA

Chuck kicked open the apartment door. Ellie and Devon were still at work so he had time to get her unpacked and situated. And time to come up with a helluva explanation for the hows and whys she'd be in residence in his room. This whole thing was on shaky ground. No matter how many ways he configured it, there was still a mammoth situation to overcome: his handlers. He'd already had one go-round with Beckman over his personal life. The uniformed malignancy of a General was always threatening him with a bunker. Must be the closest thing she gets to a sexual experience, screwing with Chuck Bartowski.

Maybe he could sic Tina on her. Terminate her…

Tina had analyzed the entire apartment layout, entry and exit, emergency routes, possible hazards, possible threat avenues. It was the first human dwelling she had ever been in or seen. There were few still standing in her area of operation. This dwelling 'pleased' her with its balance. Chuck's room was another thing altogether.

He had put her purchases on the bed and had gone through his dresser, armoire and closet freeing up space by the simple expedient of throwing out stuff he'd had for years but hadn't wanted to part with. Now he had a reason and that crap was gone.

"You did not have to eliminate items of clothing and other possessions for me, Chuck. My things could have easily remained in their packages until needed (and she almost desperately hoped the 'high heels' would never, ever be necessary. Even she had limitations.

"Nah, Tina, mi casa es su casa. And besides, some of this junk should never have made its way in here in the first place. Put your stuff where it pleases you. I'll see about a late dinner. Any preferences?" He'd turned to walk to the kitchen and stopped and turned. "Sorry, that was insensitive of me. Do you wish to eat with me, Tina, or just do whatever it is you do when you're not doing anything? I'm not _requiring_ that you…"

Her Executor was correct. The simplest expedient was a kiss.

Chuck Bartowski was pleasantly surprised and also intensely relieved. He'd forgotten about the damned surveillance and snooper mikes Casey had planted all over the damned apartment. He mentally reviewed their conversations since arriving and was relieved he hadn't made any errors. Stupid, stupid.

"Any time I bore you, Tina, or you get tired of me talking, just do that." He had his happy dance smile on.

She knew the proper response was a demure smile but instead she just kissed him again. Her receptors required routine maintenance and it had been far too long since they had experienced anything except pain at the hands of humans.

She would queue the demure smile for later.

Tina had spent time with Chuck in the kitchen. She read Ellie's cookbooks while he ate an omelet that didn't look healthy or tasty.

"Hey, I do OK with my cooking. I have simple tastes and simple needs."

"Chuck Bartowski, that is because you do not possess the ability to do more than 'simple' and you settle for that level of food preparation and taste. That is neither healthy nor smart. And you need to stay healthy. You're already smart, Chuck."

"That's the smartest thing any girl he's brought home has ever said. Hi, I'm Ellie, the official 'nag' in Chuck's life. That's Devon, my fiancé. And you are…?"

"Ellie, this is Tina. We've been kinda dating for quite a while off and on and well, I've asked her to move in with me to see where it takes us. Maybe you'll have an empty apartment as a wedding present."

At first Ellie looked confused, then a moment of anger, then just plain Elliejoy erupted throughout the apartment.

Tina took a step back when Ellie came at her for the obligatory Elliejoy hug. Chuck just put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. He looked down at her and winked. Tina took a millisecond to process and then flashed her "I love Chuck" smile she'd been practicing in the privacy of the bathroom in preparation for such an encounter.

Ellie was blown away. Totally. That smile meant only one thing to her. She was the ONE for Chuck. Thank God. At last. Over Jill, _finally_ over Sarah. And he looked very happy. And protective. He was never that way with either of his previous two loves.

Tina looked at the _family_, a concept she knew intellectually but had never witnessed. There were few intact family units up-time. This would require study and examination if she were to fit in

Twenty minutes later the human occupants of Casa Bartowski were sitting down to a lavish meal thrown together by Tina who had read and thus downloaded Ellie's extensive cookbook collection.

"My God, Chuck, marry this girl and invite me to breakfast, lunch and dinner, often. That was just AWESOME."

"Where did you learn to cook like that, Tina? And you built this incredible meal from what was in my refrigerator? Unbelievable. Oh, I'm going to need an extra 20 minutes on the treadmill for the next week but it was worth it."

Chuck just sat quietly, enjoying everyone's comments. He was incredibly proud of her. He knew she was just a … machine but she seemed to be so much more human than some of the actual people he knew. And she seemed to be learning as she went along, adapting to her environment. It was very impressive. So was she. It had been so long since anyone had taken more than passing interest in his family, certainly not his handlers.

He knew this change in his life would go over like a fart in church with Beckman & Co. but from what he could tell, his life, no, all their lives were about to change radically. If what Tina said was true, most of the people he knew would be dead in 5 years, killed by a supercomputer who then built millions of Tina's to kill all who remained.

Whoever programmed that monstrosity forgot to include a program or two on ethics. Maybe throw in the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas as a buffer against situational ethics.

As Devon and Ellie raved on about the gastronomic repast, telling Tina and mostly each other of similar meals, Tina realized that Chuck had said hardly a thing. Did that constitute disapproval? Was he angry? The look on his face was one she'd never seen on a human being before.

She reached across the corner of the table and took his hand in hers. So large a hand and yet so gentle a touch. Chuck Bartowski was full of contradictions. She felt him squeeze her hand gently, his thumb stroking the palm of her hand. A very soothing and comforting sensation. She filed the situation for background program analysis, perhaps while she "slept".

* * *

Apartment of Major John Casey

"Hey, CIA, I think your life just got a wee bit more boring. Your asset has just had a sweet thing move in with him. They sound very serious and it's very sudden. We'll need to do a complete workup on her before this progresses much further. If there are any holes in her… story, Bartowski will be looking up at the underside of a mountain before the week is out.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Casey. Then you'd be free to take his job at the BuyMore since the NSA thinks you've burned out your motherboard and you've been passed over for promotion how many times? Is it _FOUR_? And what's the count up to now, Major Casey, _3 failed_ Anger Management Courses?"

John Casey went back to listening to the boring weirdos and Sarah Walker returned to her romance novel. Neither was happy with the situation but neither was going to cut the other any slack.  


* * *

Casa Bartowski

Ellie and Devon said their goodnights and again thanked Tina for the meal. She and Chuck whipped through the dishes and had everything ready for the next morning.

"You are an amazing person, Tina. A meal fit for royalty, the way you and Ellie and Devon got along. It made me feel like something I'd been missing had found its way home again. Thank you for that, Tina. I felt so proud of you."

She was stunned. Well, if something that had a brain that could think multiple times faster than a human's could be startled, perhaps, or kicked into reboot mode.

"I was afraid I'd done something wrong or embarrassed you. You didn't say anything and I couldn't recognize the look on your face. What was that look, Chuck? You wore it the whole time Ellie and Devon and I were talking."

"Hmmm, well, I don't know. I was sitting there seeing how well you three were getting along, how you made that magnificent meal and how proud I felt. The face just went along with those feelings, I guess. Don't worry. You were perfect."

Tina sat there processing and processing. There were no routines in her programs to deal with this situation, no models to build upon. This was a first time event for her or probably _any_ T-model. If she were a human, she'd be babbling along. So she used the same solution for her situation as the one she used on Chuck's rambling.

She kissed him. A slow meeting of the lips that gave a promise of possibilities. It was not in her programmed repertoire. She was writing new code as she went. She was evolving her personality in response to stimuli.

Knowing that the enemy was listening, she whispered in Chuck's ear "I think humans have a nightly ritual I'd like to explore, Chuck Bartowski. The shower. Will you help me, Chuck? Will you be my guide in this? I have no experiences or programming models to rely on. Will you help me write my own code?"

She _was _evolving. Computers did not write their own code. They worked within the programs and models in their system. Tina was expanding and evolving. This was very exciting to Chuck. The potentials were enormous.

"Any thing for the woman who brought back the lost piece of me. Let's go. We'll borrow some of Ellie's shampoo. We'll get you some of you own tomorrow. But for now, let's sponge off Ellie."

* * *

Apartment of Major John Casey

John Casey just smiled. He'd always liked the Nerd. Felt he had potential and he'd respected his willingness to accept his fate and work for his country. About time the Nerd got a break. Walker was always dangling the carrot in front of him, always out of reach. Pushing him away and then pulling him in until he got too close and pushed him away again. She was a controller and a teaser, that one. Well, now she was out of control, pun intended.

* * *

Chuck's Room

After shampooing her hair and rinsing it clean he'd washed his own hair. Oh, great, now he'd smell like Ellie all day tomorrow and have to put up with Morgan sniffing the air like a calf looking for it's mom. It would be worth it.

They'd both been shy about touching. He, because it was unfamiliar territory, he didn't want to ruin it for her and also because he wasn't sure it was consensual. She said she would follow his instructions, follow his orders. Did she think she had to allow this because it was implied?

She waited for his touch. She felt like purring after he'd shampooed her hair and then rinsed it. His touch was gentle yet efficient, unhurried but not dawdling either. And now he was just looking at her. What was wrong now? More human mysteries. Perhaps he was waiting for her signal to proceed? Or maybe it was because he'd realized he would be making love to a kitchen appliance, a laptop, and he felt revulsion but was too courteous to mention it and now couldn't figure out how to act?

"Tina, you told me you have been programmed to follow my instructions, correct?"

"Yes, Chuck, unless they conflict with the primary core of instructions given by my Executor."

"Good. Open file Chuck. Write File. Case 1: Is it good? Case 2: Is it right? Case 3: Is it necessary? Close cases. End Write. Endif. Close file Chuck. Encode and compile. Execute."

Her face took on that faraway look that almost reminded Chuck of a flash. He'd have to remember that. It might be important down the road.

"Tina, do you know what sex is?"

"Yes, I do." That was said quietly, almost shyly.

"Tina, do you know what consensual sex is?"

"Yes, I do know."

"Tina, apply file Chuck to interrogatory query "will you make love with me" and state case decision."

"Case 1: yes; Case 2: yes; Case 3: no. End "

His smile lit the room. "Thank you, Tina."

"No, thank _you_, Chuck." Free will.

* * *

Casa Bartowski  
7am

The smell of her hair and the warmth of her body dissipated slowly but not so slowly as to be ignored. Chuck peeled one eye open and looked at her side of the bed. Empty. He sighed. Was it all a dream?

He heard sounds from the kitchen and knew his little toaster oven was busy making breakfast for the residents. He wished she didn't feel like she had to do that. Maybe her pleasure sensors functioned on a culinary level also? He'd ask but he was hungry and didn't want to piss her off. HE could not toast bread whereas she could turn out a banquet from almost anything.

He pulled on enough clothes to satisfy Ellie's sense of modesty and wandered into the kitchen. Tina was wearing one of his t-shirts and he knew damned well nothing else. Down little Chuck, you insatiable beast. He knew Devon and his sister would be wandering out any minute. He had a mission.

He padded up behind her and put his arms around her and whispered softly "You are not to cook out of a sense of obligation or duty. You are not a servant. You are a treasured individual in my life. Now, turn around and kiss me good morning."

Who knew toaster ovens had a sense of humor. When she turned around he saw her face. Aluminum foil was stretch across it and eyeholes had been cut out. His look of shock was not what she wanted to see. They'd crossed the bridge last night. She was a machine, his toaster oven and he was her human, an ugly bag of water. She snatched the foil from her face. She looked devastated. Her first attempt at human humor had failed.

She turned back to her cooking. No idea what to do. What was the phrase? She had pissed him off.

He was still standing where he'd been when she'd sprung her surprise. He put his arms around her and whispered softly "You are one sick fucking toaster oven. I almost sprung a leak in my ugly bag of water. Now, about that good morning kiss, blender butt."

End2

Armor-Plated-Rat


	3. UpTime Girl Living in a DownTime World

Terminatrix3

A/N: The final scene in chpt 2 was predicated on knowledge of Terminator series movies. Dumb me. In this AU there were no movies ergo the whole tinfoil thing was a bust. Sorry 'bout that. For those who don't have warped senses of humor, 'blender butt' refers to her mechanical construction, not something really perverted as 2 PMs had suggested and asked for more…detailed involvement.

_Definitions: Up-Time means anytime after right now. Down-time is anytime before right now._

_Conundrums: If up-time Sarah knows the response down-time Sarah will have to up-time Tina being down-time, why doesn't she warn her about the shitstorm she's about to walk into? Who killed up-time Chuck? _

_Pls don't ask me how many more chapters. I do not know. Back to the 3J's and some zeideco, and maybe a nice sweet young thing with really poor eyesight._

Armor-Plated-Rat  


* * *

Castle

Bryce Larkin was angry with himself, the world in general but most specifically with one Chuck Bartowski. If it hadn't been for him none of this would have happened.

_He _wouldn't have spent almost his entire adult life in love with a woman _he_ could never have.

_He_ wouldn't have trusted in some weird science and gotten himself sent down-time to fix a problem that while _he himself_ had caused clearly had it roots in the very existence of Chuck Bartowski.

Larkin had arrived last evening at the rear of the BuyMore just in time to see his nemesis and that mechanical fuck-bitch run inside. He knew things after years of listening to Sarah and Chuck talk while Terminators roamed over their heads. They'd reminisce about the 'old days' and exactly how to access the Castle. Hell, they'd even joked about Casey's access codes and password: ReaganRulz and 'bonsai'. So Bryce Larkin knew how to retrieve what he needed – clothing, food and weapons.

The few times he'd met General, then Major, Casey he hadn't liked him. No. He'd been a friend and mentor to Chuck in later years so Larkin automatically added him to the "I Hate You" list he'd built up over the years. Maybe he'd kill him, too, on principle. But first he'd kill that up-time abomination that Chuck Bartowski had inadvertently spawned when he'd fathered SkyNet. Then he'd kill Chuck Bartowski. After that it wouldn't matter. The timeline would be changed and 'down-time' he and Sarah would have their chance at a normal life together.

What happened to the up-time him in this timeline wouldn't matter at all. He was in this time twice, once here at the BuyMore and once in Peru rooting out a drug cartel that was funding Fulcrum. He didn't dwell on the consequences or the paradox that Professor Bartowski had warned about when he'd first stumbled on time travel and proposed it to John Connor, another do-gooder from this same timeline. Maybe he'd look John Connor up and kill him, too, to avenge future slights.

In the meantime, he just rested in one of the back detention cells and planned his assassination of Charles Bartowski and the recovery of his woman, Sarah Walker. Just before dawn he slipped out and sought other cover.

* * *

BuyMore  
8am

"Well, Bartowski, have a nice night?" John Casey's inquiry was anything but friendly. His eyes were narrowed to mere slits and the words he spoke were through clenched jaws.

"Yeah, Casey, I had a very enjoyable evening. How about you? Maim any bonsais?"

Casey grabbed Chuck's upper left arm with enough force to leave an impression that would be black and blue and then a sickly yellow for a week in what was known in the trade as a come-along.

"Someone broke into the Castle last night, bypassed all my security and took some toys from the armory. Used _my_ password. Rifled some lockers. The most interesting thing is that no one accessed any critical data files; no one made any attempts to retrieve classified documents. No, they just removed numerous government weapons and ammunition and a small amount of explosives and detonators, secured the facility and left without a friggin' trace."

He released Chuck's arm, surprised that the Nerd hadn't moaned, wet his pants or cried out in pain for Walker.

"So, _Chuck_, you going to invade a small country? Going on a bank-robbing spree? Going to kidnap Bill Gates and hold him hostage until Microsoft dumps Vista? What were you doing in the Castle?"

Chuck wondered how many of Casey's teeth were caps. The way he ground them together when he spoke angrily, which was most of the time, surely required extensive dental work. The government must have excellent dental coverage.

"What makes you think I took your toys, Casey? You know I don't like guns. And besides, you also know from your perverted listening post across the courtyard that I was otherwise occupied last night, _all_ night. You make accusations, _Majo_r Casey, you better have the documentation to back them up. Now, back off, you oversized Ewok, and cool your jets."

He started to stalk away in disgust but stopped and turned and addressed Casey in a you-will-listen-and-you-will-obey tone of voice.

"Do your job, Casey. Review the BuyMore security tapes from seven until around ten last night. Do that and then call Walker. I have an 'announcement' to make and someone I'd like you both to meet. Then I want to talk to Beckman."

Casey looked at Chuck, _really_ looked at him. Something was different. His attitude, his posture, his demeanor all said 'don't fuck with me.' Did getting laid have that effect on Bartowski? Maybe Walker was better off being celibate than dealing with 'in-your-face Chuck' if they ever did get together.

He went back to the security office to make copies of the tapes. He should have done it when he discovered the missing arms from the Castle. Bartowski was playing with him. He knew it. He wouldn't have made the suggestion, not specified the timeframe, unless he knew it was significant.

Not for the first time did he wonder just who were the 'handlers' and who was the 'handled' in this arrangement. He didn't think on it long this time because he _knew_ he got handled and badly. By a damned Nerd.  


* * *

BuyMore Security Office  
2 hours later

"Walker, Casey, I need you to meet me at the Castle ASAP. There's something, oh, shit, Sarah, I saw it and I don't believe it. I'm making copies of the BuyMore security runs from last night for you to review. Maybe I'm just hallucinating. Bartowski's involved but I'd suggest leaving D.C. in the dark until we know a little more about what's going on. And it involves his new roommate.

"Casey, I'm leaving the hotel now. And calm down, Major, you sound like Chuck when he seriously flashes. Not a good look on a big, bad NSA agent, not at all, John."

His new roommate. Sarah had cried herself to sleep the previous evening. She knew that she gave conflicting signals and had let him get close enough to see the love waiting for him and then pushed him away. She knew it was cruel. But she was afraid to let him get close, let him in. She was afraid of losing herself. The job was all she'd known. The marks were the only men she'd known outside of her fellow agents.

She'd been with Bryce Larkin. She thought she'd loved him. But she'd been a fool. He never worried about putting her in harm's way for the sake of the mission. Chuck would have been appalled if he'd known some of the things she'd done, things Bryce had told her to do, to accomplish their mission. The job always, always, came first. Just like it would this time.

She would lose Chuck. She was resigned to it. It was a price to be paid for the Greater Good. Maybe someday but not this day, or tomorrow or the day after. But someday, Sarah Walker would earn and keep the love of a good man like Chuck. It wouldn't be him. He'd be in the arms of someone much more deserving. But someone like him was out there waiting for her. She held on to that thought and that hope. It was all she had left.

Chuck clocked out of the BuyMore and headed over to his apartment. He was picking Tina up for the Meet & Greet with his teammates. He was also racking his brain to come up with a solution to a problem he knew was looming on the horizon. His little toaster oven didn't exist. She wasn't a person and he knew Casey would be licking his chops in anticipation. Hell, they hadn't even agreed on a surname for her. 'Oven', no; Darlek? He'd think on that one. It sounded…exotic. And he knew those two would never watch the Doctor.

He unlocked the door of the apartment and went in search of Tina. She wasn't in the kitchen or his bedroom. He knocked on the bathroom door when he heard the shower running. "Tina, it's Chuck, you in there?" He knew that Ellie and Awesome were off interviewing wedding planners. Thank God, no more evenings lost to swatches and frostings.

"Come in, Chuck, I'm almost done."

"Take your time, Tina, no hurry. We'll get there when we get there."

"Well, if time is not an issue, ugly bag of water, get your butt in here and wash my hair."

He set a personal best on disrobing.

* * *

Castle

Sarah had also set a personal best on getting from her hotel to the Castle. If Casey was as freaked out as it seemed to her on the phone, then it was mega-serious to quote Bartowski.

"Ok, Casey, what's up with the panic?"

"I've cued the file. Hit enter when you're ready. I'm getting coffee. Maybe something stronger. I'll bring you coffee. Just hit enter and be ready to have your world twisted. I know mine has been. And Sarah, I've seen shit that would make the devil blanch but this… make up your own mind."

John Casey was a rock, a man of few words but of a near infinite repertoire of grunts. So she was surprised at his rambling. At some of his phrases. He sounded more and more like Chuck as this progressed.

She hit |ENTER|, sat back and watched. She reran it 4 times. She mulled over what she'd seen on the file, made some notes, and ran it again 2 times.

Bartowski taking out boxes. Gusts of wind and then what looked like electricity jumping from post to pillar. A bright ball of light that got brighter and overwhelmed the filters. A woman kneeling and Bartowski running over and covering her with his jacket. Minutes later the process repeated itself with a man this time. Chuck had already gone into the BuyMore. She looked at the time stamp; 7:22pm.

No matter how many times she ran it, she saw the same thing. It was incredible.

Casey had called her at 10:40 giving her the news of the new woman in Chuck's life. Her? And what happened in the 3 hours between the recording and his call to her? What the hell was happening here?

"Well, Walker, what did you see? Report."

She summarized and asked him point blank "Was that some kind of trick photography? Some computer joke Chuck's playing on us? People just don't materialize in balls of bright light, Casey, not even in L.A. And _he _asked you to review the tapes? Why? What's he playing at?"

"Someone accessed the Castle last night, bypassed the alarms, hell, the alarms were deactivated using my user ID and password. Several weapons and sufficient ammunition to start a war were taken. No one tried to access secure data. No rifling the files. Just the weapons and ammunition and some explosives as far as I can tell. Access was at 7:33. No time of egress.

"Walker, I got a little rough with Chuck this morning, put my hands on him. You know how aggravating the little shit can be. We exchanged barbs and then he zinged me good and I lost my temper. I grabbed his arm in a come-along and he just stood there like stone. Scary. I confronted him and he responded that I knew exactly where he was and exactly what they'd done and he expected us to be here this morning for a Meet & Greet and that I should be doing my job. He suggested the tapes and time frame."

"I've got the BuyMore tape of us head-to-head. It's cued up and ready to go. I made an ass of myself but Chuck's response was unnerving to say the least. No whining, no complaining. He almost brought me to a position of attention with his presence, Sarah. Something has happened in that boy's life and he is not the same. He's… _better_."

Sarah watched that tape 3 times. Each time she saw a little more than the time before. Chuck Bartowski stood like a stone pillar. The look on his face when he told Casey to do his job. That was the look of command. That was the voice of command. John Casey recognized it. She doubted if Chuck Bartowski knew what he did. If he did, they were all in trouble. They managed the asset through fear of consequences, persuasion and intimidation and personal rapport. Those would be weak handles for them to grasp in the future.

She found this version of 'Chuck' incredibly exciting and a welcome addition to all the other 'Chucks' she'd catalogued along the road to what she _had_ hoped to be a long-term relationship. Theirs had been a rocky path so far and it had been her fault and she knew it. 'There will be no 'Chuck and Me' future,' she realized. Her earlier musings now came back to her. Maybe some_where_, some _when, _she would find _her _Chuck Bartowski. It just wouldn't be this one.

She could see reassignment in her immediate future once General Beckman saw evidence of resistance in Chuck. The General liked her 'men' pliable, probably staked out in the sun for a few days, before she dealt with them. She would put Chuck as far underground as she could, using him until he was used up and then she would either have him terminated or simply forgotten.

How many other men and women were languishing away far from friends and family, never to see the light of day? She knew of several, some she'd caused to end up that way. It was one of her many regrets that she seemed to have formed since meeting Chuck and his family. An agent could not have a conscience. It was a liability and made the agent weak and prone to questioning orders and outcomes.  


* * *

Castle  
10:30am

The drive from his apartment to the Castle went far too quickly and took far too long. He really didn't have his plan set yet, and he'd only just managed to finish the portion of his demonstration program and hadn't fully tested it yet. He'd have to trust in Fate for a successful run since he'd added the moral coding. It had worked with his little toaster over. It should work with something as simple as an AI crawler. It took too long because he was anxious to get this done with. All his actions and the events in his recent life converged to this point and he was anticipating a positive outcome.

Tina reached over and took his hand in hers. "You have reached the point in your life, Chuck, where all the infinite possibilities have narrowed to these few. How many people can say they've controlled events and now control their own destiny? Not many."

"It'll be fine, my ugly bag of water. Just be you. I'm the unknown quantity here and you should use me to your advantage. It's why I'm here. You are my purpose, you and you alone."

"So quit worrying and move this crap-car. I'd like to go to the mall again this afternoon. I saw some things on an infomercial segment of your television that the man said every woman should have to be complete. You wouldn't want an incomplete terminator in your bed, would you, my ugly bag of water?"

She laughed a delightful contralto string of sound that never failed to make him smile and lighten his mood. She had laughed a lot already today.

Chuck keyed in his pass code and submitted to the retinal scan. The Castle door opened with a muted hiss. He took Tina's hand and led her through the entry way and down the steps to the work area.

"Bartowski, what the hell are you doing bringing an unauthorized civilian in here and you didn't even blindfold her. This is the last straw, Bartowski. It's the bunker for both of you. Hope you're happy now, _lover boy_. Too bad they don't give conjugal visits where you're going."

For the first time he was concerned for the success of his plan. He had no contingency plan for emergency evacuation of a stroke victim. Oops, make that _two_ stroke victims.

"Jesus H. Christ, Chuck, have you lost your damned mind? What's she doing here? Casey is right. This is the _last straw_. You are either deranged or have deluded yourself into thinking I'll protect you from Casey but damn it, he's right!"

Chuck looked at Tina with a worried look. This was so not going to plan.

Tina walked over to Casey, put a hand on his cheek and said "General, I never thanked you for stopping the rapes and mutilations. I never saw you again. Thank you, General Casey," and she stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

The wind was sucked out of Casey's lungs. '_General_'? And she knew him by name. What the hell?

She walked over to Sarah who actually took a step back, alarm in her eyes. "And Executor, your beauty will grow over the years, unlike so many others. I have an urgent message for you and must speak to you immediately and in private. "Emily Thornton said to tell you to 'quit biting your nails, child, or you'll have ugly hands that no man will want to hold'."

Sarah Walker was as stunned by this comment as Casey had been stunned by her words and kiss on the cheek, if not more so. She sat down at one of the consoles and stared at this slip of a girl who knew something no one on earth could ever know: her maternal grandmother's last words to her before she died later that month of a massive heart attack. No one could possibly know those words. They hadn't ever been written down. They'd never been repeated to another living soul. Yet, she knew them.

"Come with me." She walked back to the main office and motioned for Tina to follow her. She gestured for her to go in and sit down and then she looked at Chuck with the glassy look of one with tears in her eyes and followed Tina into the office and closed and locked the door.

"Start talking, Bartowski. Who is she? How does she know our names and what makes her think I'm a friggin' General for God's sake? What rapes and mutilations? I've never seen her before and I've never been involved that kind of shit. No true soldier would. It goes against the Code of Conduct and our oath."

"Casey, you just haven't met her _yet _in up-time. And I had no idea you made General and that you had such a stringent ethical code. Doesn't seem to mesh well with "Kill the intersect when he's no longer needed" now, does it"

Casey just blinked at him, wondering why that connection did not seem to apply in NSA.

"And, John, I have no idea what rapes and mutilations she talking about. But I'll tell you this as sure as the sun rises, she's not lying. Now, I got something I want to bounce off you and it's not yours to say 'no' to so just listen before you start gnashing your teeth. If you hurt me, Tina will probably kill you and Sarah both. She's very protective of me for some reason. Says 'I am her purpose, me and me alone'."

"And Casey, before you hear it from Sarah, she's not human. She's a Terminator T-1050 and she's what they call a 'skin job'."

For the next 10 minutes, Chuck held Casey spellbound with his story about the previous night, his tampering with her code, and her responses. About everything including things Casey already knew.

"You're fucking a _machine_? She's a _machine_? She's _not_ human?"

"No, yes and no in order asked, Casey. She'd my Toaster Oven and I'm her 'Ugly Bag of Water. Insulting, but endearing at the same time. I also have referred to her as Hoover, blender butt, my personal erector set and a host of new ones I'm sure I can come up with. Now, get over it because she's going to be around for at least 8 years. That's the term of her assignment. I hope she'll stick around after that but that'll be up to her."

"Chuck, I know what I heard last night. That was some serious and strenuous sexual intercourse. She's a machine and unless you were doing it alone, you were doing it with a machine."

"Not fucking, John, making love. A big difference. If you don't know the difference, you haven't found the right one yet."

"Now, Casey, this is what I'm going to propose to Beckman. I'd like you to be part of it, John, especially now that she's found you again. She'll need support and guidance in case I go down to the bunker or just go down." Casey knew what he meant."

Chuck explained the plan and the intended course of action. Casey just nodded. Chuck hadn't expected a glorious shout of "Huzzah" from him, but a nod or acknowledgment would have been nice. He looked at his watch, the to the office door. He sighed.

"Chuck, you know this is going to hit Sarah hard. She has a thing for you. I'll stay but I doubt she will. Before you go all girly on me, I know she's been jerking you around, keeping your dick hard and doing nothing about it but that's her way of controlling you. Now she's going to have to try doing something really radical…telling you the truth. Don't you end up being a dick either. If there's no chance for her, man up and tell her that. Don't be like her, be like you."

"Wow, Casey, that's a lot of truth that. About time someone else recognized it. I thought it was just me being the lovelorn.

The office door finally opened and out came Sarah Walker, eyes puffy from crying but stoic and totally 'in charge'.

She looked at Chuck. "It, um, she needs to talk to you."

Chuck just looked at her, disgusted. "Her name is Tina. I don't care if you use it, but use the female pronoun when talking about her. She is not an "it". Get that through your think Agency-bigoted head, Sarah."

He looked aside at Casey. "I was wrong, Casey, it'll just be you and me and 'it'."

Sarah looked like she was going to say something but he ignored her and bulled past her into the office and closed the door.

"Casey, do you believe this shit?" She expected Casey to be standing tall by her side on this but she was disappointed.

"Yes, amazingly enough, I do. And if you don't, Sarah Walker, even with the extended briefing you just got and we didn't, by the way, then you're a fool and a coward and just what he said, a CIA Agency Bigot. Your agency has a reputation of disrespecting people of other cultures and colors, I guess it's part of their training syllabus."

"What do you mean, you didn't get an extended brief. What were you and Bartowski talking about all that time?"

"His plan to stay out of the bunker, to keep us all working together along with his little Toaster Oven, and about a gift to the US Government that will render the current intersect obsolete. He wants to form a new team and I think I'm sticking around for it. Will be fun to terminate the essence of Fulcrum and other assorted bad guys for a change."

"Care to share what Tina told you? Or was it for the ears of the CIA only?"

"Casey it was personal. She knows me in the future. She was there when Chuck died. She was the one who told me how he died. _I_ sent her back to now, what she calls 'down-time' to find, protect and guide him. She knows things, Casey."

"She's told me of my future, our future. It's bleak and scary and it's all up to Chuck to fix since he created the mess in the first place but he gets assassinated before he can affect a solution."

"How do I tell him, Casey? Oh, by the way, Chuck, Tina, your little Toaster Oven fuck-buddy will one day take a k-bar and cut your heart out. How do I tell him that? That's the paradox she's explaining to him right now. The stupid bastard even gave her a moral code to live by last night. Like he can change up-time history by giving her a choice."

The office door opened and Chuck walked out. "Casey, please alert General Beckman that I'll need to speak to her and two of her top programmers in one hour. I need some air." Chuck headed for the stairs, passing by Tina but not acknowledging her presence.

Casey went to the console and dialed up a teleconference. Beckman answered immediately. "Major Casey, your briefing is not for quite a while yet. Is anything wrong? Did the intersect flash?"

"No General, but Bartowski requests a conference with you and your two top programmers in one hour if possible. I think you'd be wise to take it, General."

"I'll trust your judgment on this, Major. One hour. Beckman out."

* * *

Chuck walked up to the surface. If he made a mistake, this place would be gone in a few years, replaced by horrific death and destruction. His family, his friends, hell, his _world _would be changed, destroyed.

There was one solution. If he died right here, right now, none of the horror would come to pass. If he ended himself now, unless someone else developed his programs, the world would be safe. He walked around and popped the trunk on the Herder, opened the duffel bag the terminator had stuffed full of weapons and ammo and removed the only hand gun he was vaguely familiar with. He dug around and found a magazine for it and locked the mag in place and stared at it.

How had it come down to this moment in time? If he didn't do it, he would kill millions, maybe billions. If he did, he'd save all those innocents.

* * *

Sarah Walker had to do something to keep busy. She initiated the external cameras around the Castle and BuyMore plaza parking lot. She panned each camera to its maximum limits then switched to the next camera. She was looking for her asset. It was her job to protect him and she would until reassigned.

* * *

He wasn't sure just how to do this so that it would be quick and relatively painless but also not so messy. If he put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger he realized that the bullet would not stop after taking out the brain stem. It would continue on until it either hit something or its velocity was overcome by gravity. He wouldn't risk hurting some innocent person. Apparently, his future self had taken care of that, quite nicely.

If he put the muzzle under his chin and fired and it penetrated through the skull, the roof of the Herder should absorb it. That was the way he'd do it. He placed the muzzle up under his chin, trying to for a placement that would set a vector through the brain stem and the dura.

* * *

She spotted Chuck's shoes sticking out below the open door of the Herder parked behind the building. She increased magnification and saw what he was doing.

"_Casey_! Chuck's got a gun and he's going to kill himself!"

She launched herself out of the chair towards the stairway but Tina was already halfway up the stairs. Casey was still shaking off the shock of Walker's scream and levering himself out of his chair. Both women were already up the stairs and he knew he'd be too late to do anything but order a cleaner team.

'Damn it, Bartowski, not now, not when so many things are falling into place for you and the team.'

* * *

He pulled the trigger and it wouldn't budge. Dumb ass! Remember what Casey taught you, remove the safety before firing. Doh!

He held the pistol in his lap and tried to remember which of the levers was the safety and which was the magazine ejector. He slipped the one over to its detent and put the weapon under his chin. He pulled the trigger but again it wouldn't budge. Well, shit. He'd released the magazine and it fell from the pistol onto the floor of the Herder. He hadn't charged the weapon yet either so it was empty. Smooth move, bowels.

He bent over to get the magazine. Not an easy task with the steering wheel and your damned long legs in the way. He fell over in the seat figuring to pat the floor mats until he felt the magazine and retrieved it and reinserted it. This time he'd remember to charge the barrel with a round and click off the safety.

Just as he felt the magazine on the floor the passenger door of the Herder was torn open. He was dragged unceremoniously out of the vehicle by his collar and thrown to the concrete parking lot.

"What are you doing, Chuck? This is not the answer. The answer is in your perfect plan. Forget what I told you in the room. It's not going to happen, none of it. _YOU_ won't allow it to happen again, now, oh, shit, whenever." His little toaster oven was as calm as could be. She grabbed him by the hands and pulled him up onto his feet and into her arms.

"My ugly bag of water, I could never harm you or anyone else now. You gave me yourself, your program, you gave me free will to choose and I choose not to take life, or have it taken if I can prevent it."

"Chuck, you've saved yourself by just doing what was right for a _machine_, not even a human being, but a _parody_ of a human being. Don't waste your gift, use it. Come; help your team make a different future, a better future. Don't leave me, Chuck. I would not continue without you. You are my purpose, you and you alone."

Sarah Walker had watched as the terminator tore the door from its hinges and pulled her asset from the Herder. She would have been too late to save him. She would have failed in her mission. She heard what was _said_ and heard what was _meant_. She sighed, retrieved the Colt from the floor of the Herder and turned back to the Castle wondering where her next assignment would be.

* * *

A/N: _Where is the damned Charah? Patience. She 1__st__ has to redeem herself with her team and face up to the hard facts of how she's treated Chuck in her attempts to control her asset_. _I guess my rehab of the RatBastard failed._

Armor-Plated-Rat


	4. Sarah's POV Showtime

Terminatrix4

_A/N: This chapter will be from Sarah's POV. I've never done a 1st person narrative so if it's funky, tell me. I'll probably screw up the tenses or something. I sense Charah in the next chapter. _  


* * *

**Castle**

Chuck has Casey and 'it' on either side of him in the chair. Casey has his hand on Chuck's forearm and 'it' has its claw-like appendage wandering through Chuck's hair, soothing him. He was so close to pulling the trigger and if he hadn't forgotten that he turned the gun over to shoot himself through the neck he'd have disengaged the safety instead of ejecting the magazine. Then when he pulled the trigger I'd be a widow earlier than God planned.

Of course I'm leaving out the part where 'it' tore the door off the Herder, yes, off, then reached in and dragged him out the open door by his shirt collar. With one hand. Then 'it' proceeded to ream him out good. He deserved it. But then 'it' grabbed his hands, pulled him up and into an embrace that left little to the imagination. 'It' is 6 inches shorter than Chuck and I could clearly hear 'it' talking into his chest.

'Don't leave me, Chuck. I would not continue without you. You are my purpose, you and you alone.'

How can a girl compete with those lines? I mean, really, do _you_ believe that shit? He did. Because 'it' meant it. Every word.

Right now I am seething. The old saying 'seeing red' comes to mind and I swear the light at the edges of my sight at tinged in red.

First, she's a legitimate thing from the future. No doubt about it. I've never ever told anyone what my grandmother told me before she'd died. But I told 'it' up-time to prove her bona fides. The story 'it' related was incredible. I was married to Professor Bartowski. He was the Father of SkyNet. He also planned to commit fratricide by infecting it with a virus. However, 'it' was assigned the task of assassinating my husband and 'it' did so by using a k-bar to remove his heart from his chest. I don't like to think about what 'it' told me happened next.

Basically, I pulled 'it' from some dire straits and reprogrammed 'it' to be a mentor, companion and lover to my not-yet husband back in 2009. Apparently, up-time-me remembered that we had been going through some rough spots and it was a prime time to drop 'it' off. The other thing was that they only had enough power available to go back so far and there was a theoretical reason too, but it was stuff Chuck would have understood. Me, apparently I just killed things up-time just like now.

He can't leave well enough alone. Chuck has also done some reprogramming and 'it' now has what Chuck refers to as a 'moral compass'. We all have moral compasses. It's just that you check yours at the door when you join the agency. It's not needed. The PTB tell you what is right and you go do it.

What I find impossible to accept and yet understand implicitly is the fact that Chuck took 'it' to bed the first night 'it' was down-time. Did he think that was OK because 'it' wasn't a person? Because that were no consequences to his actions? There will definitely be consequences. I will be leaving for one thing. Will he even notice or care?

I need to talk with 'it' some more. Without a doubt. There are too many unanswered questions about up-time Chuck and Sarah.

* * *

Beckman finally logged on. "All right, Mr. Bartowski, the floor is yours."

Chuck sent a program file to the two programmer wizards and told them to load it into a vestibule version of the intersect. Run parallel tests and compare amounts and times of access for each version and then contact him tomorrow at 10am with the results or sooner if they had problems. If he didn't hear from them, he'd assume they had no interest and that would be the end of it.

If, however, the program enhanced data retrieval and reduced access times, well, then they'd have more to talk about. Chuck's little flirtation with death put a damper on his presentation. I don't think anyone noticed but me. There was no light in his eyes, just an incredible sadness. He'd fully realized that he was responsible for killing at least most of the world's population with his new programs in the up-time. It was killing him. And it would take almost 6 years to do so. And according to Casey he was banging the hell out of the instrument of his demise. Karma? Fate?

She knew a little something about the asset that wasn't in the files. He'd flirted with Buddhism in college. Like with every other endeavor in his life, he'd jumped in, learned to "swim" while trying not to drown. In this case, he'd tried to absorb an entire philosophy in one semester. He'd gone in to San Francisco and talked with the monk at a monastery who had dissuaded Chuck from shaving his head and joining. But he'd learned about Karma. And he believed in it.  


* * *

"Tina, I need to speak with you again when you have a moment." I walked into the office where she'd dumped the load of crap on me and sat down. I felt like crying and I didn't know why.

She came in and I noticed something. She walked with an almost feline grace.

"Yes, Executor?"

"First off, it's Agent Walker or Sarah. Executor is up-time and probably dead if half of what you told me today is true. No, scratch that. I know all of it is true. Since you and Chuck Bartowski are, um, living together, I think you should call me Sarah, because it will please him to think we were getting along better than we really are."

"Ok, Sarah. That's logical and it will definitely please Chuck. He cares for you a great deal, more than you know and more than he feels he should. What he's told you is only the tip of the ice cube."

"Ice berg, not cube, berg."

"Yes, thank you. I would appreciate any corrections to my idioms in the future."

"You've been here less than 24 hours and he's already discussing his past girlfriends with you? You're a fast worker, Tina. I suppose it's the programming. You being a terminator and all."

"Actually, information retrieval, spying, is the primary core of my programming, Sarah. Like your spies in the CIA, information is primary. Seduction, infiltration and observation are primary tools of retrieval. Assassination is low on my core models and is rarely invoked as an action."

"You should know, or _will_ know, that SkyNet had to rely on what was in the intersect to build his models and programs. SkyNet used mission reports, actual cases and officer and agent reports and reviews to form his program structures for his infiltrators. I'm certain that some of your missions and case-officer reports were used. After all, you were and are the premier CIA agent. Never a mission failure."

_**That hurt. She is right. Tina is the energizer-bunny version of Sarah Walker**. _

"Professor Bartowski was a high-priority exception. Seven of us were sent over a 2-year period; only I was successful in gaining access and subsequently his confidence. Your up-time self was once again 'punishing' him by removing yourself physically and emotionally from his presence and going on missions with your ... " She interrupted herself then.

"You should know, Exec…, excuse me, _Sarah, _that I dislike you intensely. Until the opportunity presented itself I was a sleeper agent and so I got to know the Professor quite well. I liked him, admired him. But he was cold and indifferent when you were gone. I heard your story from both the Professor and from General Casey. Casey's version was vitriolic. The Professor's version was much more romantic. To keep you near him, even though he knew you never loved him like you did the other, he built SkyNet."

"Stop right there, little lady. There is no other. There has never been anyone else, just Chu…"

"Bryce Larkin, Sarah. You told Chuck you would marry him, stay by him, but you wanted Bryce Larkin added to the team. That was your condition. And he met it.

"What? That RatBastard Larkin is the reason Chuck's got that damned intersect in his head, it's why I'm here. If Bryce Larkin came anywhere within 5 feet of Chuck Bartowski it would a toss up as to who would kill him first, Casey with a pistol or me with a knife. Why would you believe such a thing?"

"Because you told me. So it is true. Perhaps that hasn't happened yet. The Executor was uncertain of exactly when she'd fallen in love with Bryce. Something to do with Cabo?"

Tina told me all about us, Chuck and I. It was all in the intersect. All our case reports, after-action and mission reports, every piece of information provided by Casey, me or 3rd party reviewers. Apparently everyone but Sarah Walker had acknowledged that the asset had fallen hopelessly in love with his agent handler.

My Agent Effectiveness Review would display high marks for manipulation, seduction, control and emotional commitment by the asset to his handler. Especially high marks for her ability to 'turn it on and off' at will, thus keeping him an emotional basket case. Classic spycraft. An easily manipulated mark kept off-balance emotionally by an on-again, off-again 'love affair" with his handler. It was a "love affair" that would never be consummated, and was totally constructed to benefit only the handlers and their mission.

_Is that how others see this dance of seduction Chuck and I have been doing since the kiss at the pier? Do they see my stumbling efforts are being 'real' to the one man I've ever loved as 'excellent spycraft' worthy of high marks for manipulation and control?_

_All I wanted to do was let him in, let him see how I felt. Had I failed so badly in showing him that I loved him, was in love with him, that casual observers saw it as excellent examples of keeping the mark an emotional basket case?_

_If that was how experts viewed her actions, how could Chuck be any less confused by her signals. He didn't see any of her attempts as 'real', just extensions or intensifications of 'the cover'. Oh, Chuck, I'm so, so sorry. I always knew how you felt; just sucked at letting you know how I felt._

"General John Casey had thought of the Professor as an annoying younger brother, someone to be harassed but protected at all costs. They became great friends. The General and his guards always accompanied Professor Bartowski whenever he ventured to the surface for his weapons tests."

"Chuck built weapons? The same Chuck who couldn't get the simple safety vs magazine release in his head?"

"Yes. John Conner called him his secret weapon. You had almost defeated SkyNet, the virus would have given you victory."

"Tina, that can't be true. Chuck is a gentle man, well meaning, he abhors violence but if pushed will try to work his way around problems using his brain not brawn.

"Perhaps he changed after SkyNet initiated the attacks. All I know is that Professor Bartowski was haunted by the dead. You were the only light in his life. He used to joke that he had to peel you off his arm because he couldn't write worth a damn right-handed. He called you his right hand lady because of that."

"But then Larkin appeared and you two would disappear for days on missions. He would be worried sick until you returned. I saw you once, you came into his office in the underground and told him you wanted him to know that you were back and he smiled his beautiful smile, glad that you were back. I saw the look of disgust on your face, Sarah. Did you ever love him?"

I'd had enough. I was damned if I'd let a collection of pushrods and batteries in a nice looking skin ask me such questions. I've asked myself that a lot lately. I do love him. I do love Chuck Bartowski but now it's too late. I waited too long, waiting for what, I don't know. Maybe to get over the fear?

I stood up and said, "You've told me what I need to know, Tina. Thank you for being so frank with me. I won't get between you and Chuck. If he can accept love from a machine and return it, he's a better person that I am." I had to get out of there. I would not cry in front of a damned machine.

"Sarah, he doesn't love me. It's not my name he whispers when we make love. It's not my name he sighs when he climaxes. I'm just a replacement. A fully functional female video game. Don't give up on him unless you really don't love him. He's too good a man to be alone, without someone by his side. I'll fill the role per your up-time instructions but it doesn't have to be that way. You have fee will. Use it."

Something is nagging at me. I can't put my finger on it. Something 'it' said. OK, OK, _Tina_ said. This is bugging the crap out of me.

We both know that the next few hours will be important to both of us. I want to stay, I want to say to him, 'Chuck, I love you, don't leave me. Please choose me,' but I have a feeling he's already made up that complex and yet simple mind. All I can do is hope and pray he can see past the smoke and mirrors and see the real me.  


* * *

We walked back into the work area, well, she glided back in and I kind of stomped. I'm still pissed at her comment regarding Bryce RatBastard Larkin being my not-so-secret lover in the up-time. I mean, God Save Ireland, is that ridiculous or what? OK, once I thought I loved him but when I looked into Chuck's eyes and finally saw the other half of my soul, Bryce Larkin became, at best, a brain fart. I mean, really, he's smooth and so damned handsome and always knows the right thing to say but he never ever worried about me the way Chuck does…er… did. Nope, he's history.

The two programmer nerds and the General are back on talking with Chuck. Actually, I think the General is screeching at Chuck, something about the intersect files being locked. The two programmers are looking like they're been constipated for a month. Chuck is just sitting there, listening with half his mind while I'm sure the other half is planning on some sort of nerd-inspired mayhem. He's nothing if not predictable.

"Bartowski, we ran your program. It increased access speeds dramatically and with no data degradation. But, when we ran it the second time to double check the data from the original test it slowed to a crawl and now the intersect files are locked. What has your program done? If it isn't fixed, _you'll_ be fixed, Mister.

Tin Lizzie is staring at Chuck with a look between 'Yummy' and 'I can't believe he's mine'. I think I prefer the former. I'm just looking around, getting a level of awareness for the situation.

"Question for you, General, well, actually for Tweedle Dum or Tweedle Dumber. You guys tried to disable the God module, didn't you? Thought you could bootleg the program and either claim it for your rancid little selves or else give it to Big Momma for the obligatory atta-boy. Am I right?"

The two programmer nerds turned bright red and the General whirled around in her desk chair and cut them both in half with the laser she kept locked in her left nostril. Well, she could have glared them to death. I wasn't sure. I was watching Chuck. He was actually enjoying himself. When he's within an inch of never seeing daylight again.

"That was not a rhetorical question, General. Did your boys diddle with my program. Yes, they did, or No, they didn't. A binary choice and you have a 50% chance of actually telling me the truth for a change."

"Tell him." Beckman's voice could have cut through titanium.

Programmer Nerd #2 'fessed up. "We saw that after each step the program 'consulted' your module before proceeding and we though you'd left a check sum program in error."

"Well, gentlemen, what you did was activate the 'thou shalt not diddle with Chuck,' a kill module. Congratulations, idiots. You've lobotomized the intersect. How's it feel? Good? Tingles up your leg? Or have you defiled Diane's expensive carpet with yellow puddles."

My God, he _is_ enjoying this. He was daring Beckman to do something. I loved this side of Chuck. The one who tells the whole world "Screw you if you can't take a joke!" and I had to laugh. It was contagious. Tin Lizzie giggled, I mean, _giggled_, and Casey just turned all red in the face and looked like he was going to explode if he couldn't laugh.

General Beckman was not amused. "Bartowski, you deliberately sabotaged the intersect. You've cost the United Stat"

"Be silent, woman! Your precious intersect is intact, simply hiding from the machinations of your two resident idiots. Here's the deal, General. I'll give you a new and improved crawler, an AI-capable crawler and in exchange you grant me authority to name my own team and change my status from 'unpaid conscript' to 'entry-level junior analyst' or something that pays me for my efforts so I can leave the damned BuyMore and move out of my sister's apartment."

"I've slammed all the backdoors on the intersect, General. No access except via my program. And my program has an added benefit, a freebie, if you will. It now has something sorely lacking in government – a Moral Compass. All this is free and without constraint. I'll sign off a licensing agreement in case you want to relieve the taxpayers of their burden and sell a modified version commercially, _without_ the God module. That stays put. No negotiation."

"Well, General Beckman, do we have a deal or do you wish to consult with higher authorities for permission?"

My God, he was taunting her. If he pushed her too far she'd go Pelosi on him. 'Be careful, Chuck.'

"Done, Chuck. You name your team, I'll get you a paycheck and you free up the intersect and send us your program. Impressive, Bartowski. And ballsy. How do you know I won't just have you turned into landfill trash or kidnap your family until you comply?"

"Because the God module monitors everything General. And if something untoward were to happen to me or someone I love, your precious NSA and every other function of the US Government would suddenly find itself in 1860 again. There's a bug in the program that covers my ass. The Hephaestus Plague. It'll eat every computer linked to the intersect, every computer linked with any government node. And since the intersect knows where all the bodies are buried, well, can you say exhumation time?"

"I mean you no harm. I just want a little of the things promised in the Constitution. You can go all fussy or you can admit you're in check and have only this one option. I promise you, I will not gloat."

"Well played, Mr. Bartowski. It will be done. Expect a raise and a new home for Team Bartowski. Email the particulars and I'll confirm dates, times, etc. Welcome to the NSA, Chuck. Beckman out." The picture darkened but not before they could see Diane Beckman laugh and clap her hands like a grandmother who's favorite grandson has _finally _crapped in the potty.  


* * *

_A/N: Next chapter is charah time. You've been patient and I never break my word. Thank you for your time and patience. _


	5. Hassles in the Castle

_Terminatrix5_

_A/N: Here's where the Charah starts but this chapter will not see the end of it. May go to 6 or 7. My angst garden is in full bloom. Makes no sense not to harvest the bounty._

_Thanks to__**Whatutalkinabout**__for the comments re Sarah's POV chapter. That's what a review is supposed to do, provide feedback and perspective. Thanks._

Armor-Plated-Rat  


* * *

**Castle**

"Well, Bartowski, I don't know how you did it but you managed to piss off, threaten, make nice and finally, if that fading image was any indication, 'delight' the Director of the NSA _and_ get yourself a nice paycheck and us some expanded digs. Man, you Nerds ought to be rounded up and put in quarantine. You're dangerous. Still, if it gets us out of the BuyMore…"

Casey was smiling, faintly, but still, smiling. He'd tell anyone who caught it 'it's gas, that's all' but it was still a smile.

Tina just stood there, processing what she'd seen and heard. Chuck was becoming the 'Professor Bartowski' she knew in up-time and had just created the kernel programs that would eventually develop into an _aware_ SkyNet.

His reasoning in down-time was different but the result would be the same: Death and destruction unparalleled in human history. If she could have cried, she would have. Her mission to guide him away from this path had failed.

The program module created by the Executor in up-time for just such a sequence of events activated and merged with her core programs as did reactivated sections of her original programming from SkyNet. Had she a heart she would have felt it break into a million pieces.

Unfortunately for her, Chuck could read her facial expression. She was loading a new module. The look on her face was exactly like when he'd given her the "Chuck" program. Every woman he'd ever gotten close to would eventually screw him over or betray him. This one was no different except this one would kill him. He was so screwed.

Sarah Walker's reaction was not at all like the terminator unit's. While she felt enormous pride and respect for Chuck Bartowski, she also felt afraid and threatened. Would he offer her a position on his team or would he ask her to leave? And if he did ask her to leave, where would she go? This place was as close to a 'home' as any she'd ever known. The Agency would reassign her, regardless of her feelings, and that would be the end of any possible 'Chuck & Sarah' scenario.

This new and confident Chuck was an improvement over the older model. Maybe she should start issuing version numbers like Chuck v2.01; she probably wouldn't be around, not after her outburst and his rejoinder. What did he mean, "it's only going to be you, me and 'it'?" Was she already out and just hadn't heard the final announcement? She'd pushed him away one time too many, rejected his heart one time too many and now he'd found something who would love him without condition or expectation. She felt her heart break into a million pieces.

"Sarah, could you do me a favor, please? It's not mission related nor is it even remotely related to the intersect but it is important to me but you don't have to do it if you don't have time or want to. It's just a favor to me."

She nodded to him to continue, raising one blonde eyebrow over an electric blue eye.

"I need to finalize some code and I'd promised Tina a trip to the mall. Here's my AMEX, could you please, please, take her? She needs a bunch of girly stuff, shampoo, conditioner, you know, you're a girl."

Sarah was stunned. Chuck wants me, his ex-girlfriend, to take Tina, his current, um…, girlfriend, to the mall? Is he nuts? That conceited son of a bitch. Why should I…wait, it's a second chance for me, he's giving me a second chance. It's a test to see if I'll try and get along with… his prized toaster oven.

"Of course. Just don't bitch when the bill comes in." She said that in a sweet way but the look on her face was far from sweet. Shopping. On orders from her new…what? Boss? Ex-boyfriend? That'd work.

"Hey, Tina, let's go shopping!"

Tina was definitely not sure about this. He had promised but that was before the events with the intersect. She did not see why she should indulge in any non-mission activities now. Her mission had changed. Her 'a priori' was now completing the mission, and then figuring out where she could hide until down-time caught up with her former place in up-time.

Sarah sensed her reluctance but not the reason. "Hey, c'mon, we can talk some more and I'll tell you all about the stuff I know about Chuck that you don't and you can do the same. Information retrieval and storage, girl friend."

The Tina unit sensed an underlying meaning in her words and decided that an information exchange on the current habits and attitudes of her target would be beneficial to her mission. But she had to keep the target unaware of the change in mission profile.

"Fine, good idea."

When the two left, Casey looked at Chuck and commented, "Bartowski you are one devious bastard. I salute you, sir, on behalf of men everywhere."

Chuck just laughed but was suddenly sober. "Casey, I think her mission has changed from preventing the beginning of SkyNet to something less savory. Her entire response to the thing with Beckman was so atypical to her normal programming of gushing admiration and support."

"She's going to start playing me. You watch. She doesn't know what the God Module does and I'm not going to tell her yet. We should know her limits if she's going to be on the team. It's my opinion that the situation has changed and she's activated some mission-related modules that bode most ill for me. Most ill, indeed. I think my beautiful little toaster oven is going to kill me just like she did my older self up-time."

Casey had been half listening to Chuck just like he always did when the nerd started blabbering on. When he heard 'toaster oven is going to kill me' he snorted the better part of a mouthful of coffee out his nose.

"What? She's going to do _what_?"

Chuck laughed and grinned. "Major Casey, you are such a pig…" and he threw Casey a box of tissues. "And since you're soon going to be a colonel, it would behoove you to have a higher level of decorum."

Another mouthful went spewing across the console. "Aw, shit, Casey, that's just gross. Don't drink it if you can't handle it."

**Sarah's Porsche**

"Your car is much nicer than the crap-car he drives. How fast can it go?" Small talk. Fill the gaps in time with nonessentials.

"I've had it up to 130 but it'll go faster. I'm just not sure there's anywhere around here that I can really let it out. So, you don't like Chuck's Herder? It's not really his, he just uses it at work."

"He should buy one of these. He drives like he is uncertain. Driving this, he would be certain."

Alarms, subtle but jangling go off in Sarah's mind. She has never called him by name since the conference with Beckman and she seems hesitant, unsure. Time to find out what's going on in her wind-up mind.

"So, you and Chuck are going to be living together? Have you met Ellie and Devon?"

"Yes, last evening." No comment about living together.

"Chuck's a great guy, you'll enjoy spending time with him. He has a lot to offer someone who'll just let him in. You know, accept him and offer some of yourself back. That's something I couldn't do. It's against protocols and rules."

She pulled the Porsche into a parking space at the Burbank Mall. She looked over at Tina the terminator. Stared at her intently.

"I guess I'm trying to say be for him what I couldn't be. What I wouldn't let myself be for him. But above all else, don't hurt him. He doesn't expect much because he's never gotten much. But one thing he's always been able to depend on is that the women in his life will always betray him – always."

Tina just sat staring at her hands in her lap. She said very quietly, "Executor, I have invoked the end-game protocols since the situation matched the model as you instructed. I will carry out my assignment, again. I will make it quick and as painless as possible. He is my purpose, he and he alone."

"And I will join the list of those who have betrayed him but at least I will be the last one."

She turned in the seat and looked Sarah Walker dead in the eye.

"And you will have your revenge on a decent man who only wanted to love you and have you love him. Your purpose was to have me destroy the Professor before he created SkyNet so you would not have to endure him, so you could have your precious Bryce."

"I would kill you here, Sarah Walker but your core programs and SkyNet's override his programming and protect you. But I will find a way to kill you, Sarah Walker, for killing Chuck Bartowski."

"Take me back to the Castle, Sarah Walker, I must complete my mission and give you your revenge. But remember what I said. I will find a way."

Sarah could only stare in horror at what she would do from the far reaches of the up-time. What kind of person was she that she would use the death of millions, maybe billions, to destroy one man so she could possess another.

"Tina, please listen to me. You are wrong. I do not love Bryce Larkin. I love Chuck Bartowski and I have since the first time I looked into his eyes. I've always known that he was my One but I was afraid. I used the job, the rules, anything, to keep him away. I was so wrong, Tina, and now you'll kill him because some old piece of shit in the future wants to make sure I end up with Larkin? Think, please. This is not right. You can be more than a machine, Tina. You are more. You're free of programming rules. Plea…"

Tina struck her in the temple knocking her unconscious. She had diligently watched as Sarah had driven the sports car, shifted gears by carefully synchronizing actions of clutch, gas and shift lever. She got out of the car and closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. She shoved Sarah's unconscious form to the passenger floor, wishing she could simply kill the bitch and stop the events her programming decried would transpire. If she could hate, she would hate SkyNet, hate Bryce Larkin but most of all hate Sarah Walker. She had destroyed a world to get her way.

**Castle**

Tina pulled into the Castle lot and parked behind the building. Checking to ensure that Walker was still unconscious, she got out of the car and entered the building. It had been child's play to copy Chuck's retina patterns and impose them on her own while he slept. She keyed his pass work and submitted to the scan.

Chuck was sitting with his back to the stairs, completing some elementary changes and modifications to his AI crawler. He felt confident that if the little sucker ever came close to becoming aware, that knowledge would be fleeting. The entire system was double fire-walled and his GodMode program was in place. He would zap the entire system into reboot at the first inkling of awareness. Ten seconds later, his new version that he called the Mutating AI Crawler would be back on line, any memory of awareness gone into La-La-Land.

Tina walked behind Chuck and placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned down, pressing her cheek to his. Softly, almost a whisper, she said, "I'm so sorry for this, my ugly bag of water. But I will avenge y…"

The stun gun hit her at the juncture of cranium and neck with maximum volts and caused a system reboot. She fell to the floor at Casey's feet.

"Jesus, Bartowski, you sure can pick 'em. What'd she say to you?"

"That she was sorry. Then you zapped her. Good thinking. Now, let's get her secured and then check on Sarah. I watched her pull up in Sarah's car. I'll never forgive myself if something happened to her, Casey."

"You better hope that Miss Machine didn't scratch it. Sarah will dismantle her if her precious Porsche is damaged."

**1 hour later**

"How's the head, partner?"

"Casey! Tina's going to kill Chuck."

"Already happened. He figured it out and sent her shopping so he could work out a plan. Don't ever tell him this, Walker, but the kid's got huge brass balls. He let her come up behind him and he just sat there cool as could be. Let her whisper in his ear and then I zapped her with the stun gun."

"Where is she now, Casey? I have to talk to her. It's a horrible mistake and I've figured it out. I need to talk to her and Chuck together. You, too. Please. It's that important."

"Bartowski's having a conniption. Wants you taken to a hospital immediately or bringing a CIA doctor here. I told him you had a hard head though."

"Let's go talk to them. This is all a horrible mistake."

Castle Detention Area

Chuck sat on the bunk with Tina's head in his lap, stroking her hair and making nonsense noises to her. She still had not fully regained system stability, consciousness, going in and out. On her last foray into awareness she saw him, smiled, and said "I'm happy to see you, ugly bag of water. How did you know?" But she didn't hang around long enough to hear his answer.

"Chuck, is she OK? Has she regained consciousness at all?" Casey seemed intent on her status. Maybe the General had a soft spot for a certain terminator. That made him smile.

"In and out. Knows I'm still alive and hasn't tried to remedy the situation so I think the storm has passed. How's Sarah? I still think she needs to see a doctor, Casey. If anything happened to her, regardless of her feelings for Bryce, well, I couldn't live with myself. Please, call the CIA and at least get her a doc here, Casey. Don't be an asshole about it. Just do it."

"Not necessary, Chuck. I'm OK, just a wee bit of a headache. She sure can punch, your little toaster oven. I'd like to spar with her someday. What do you think?"

"Well, as soon as you're both in excellent health and you both have buried your respective hatches, we'll talk about it. Until then, sit on your ass and do as little as possible. I'm still working on the email to the General so I'd like your input."

"Chuck, she was going to kill you. She had no choice. All her programs were scrambled by up-time Walker's overrides. Don't blame her. I guess you can blame up-time me. She's promised to kill me and Larkin to avenge you. I guess she likes you, Casey. You got a pass." He just grunted, but looked insufferably pleased with himself.

"Sarah, I don't think it's _you_, up-time."

"Yeah, I figured that one out, too. Alternate reality, right?"

"Oh my God, sexy, beautiful _and_ smart!" Chuck laughed but was also curious. He figured something like that but Sarah _knew_ it. He wanted to know how she figured it out. Sarah was just stunned at his comment. He never said things like. She knew he _thought _them but never had he spoken them. 'And what's this crap about Bryce and me?'

"Tina said you called me your 'Left hand girl' since I was always hanging on it and you couldn't write. But Chuck, you're right-handed. And there was the whole professor bit. Chuck, you didn't graduate from Stanford in our reality. Apparently he did, in his."

"Chuck, does that mean you're not going to make SkyNet after all?" Tina apparently had been listening to all of the discussion. She still had her eyes closed and was enjoying Chuck's ministrations on her hair and cheeks.

"I've already done it, toaster, but I made some, um, modifications. I gave the bastard a conscience, a set of guidelines and a moral compass. As a further safeguard, I created the GodModule. If he ever wakes up enough to be noticed, he gets zapped. Reboot. Just like happened to you, courtesy of soon-to-be Colonel Casey."

"So that means that the Sarah Walker in my up-time is not the Sarah Walker of your here and now? You do know this whole back-to-the-past thing was just so you'd be killed and Bryce Larkin and Sarah Walker would be free of any constraints, Chuck, don't you?"

"I guess I do now."

"Alternate realities. Who knew it was anything more than a sci-fi concept on TV."

"So, that means you don't have to kill me after all, Tina." Sarah and Casey laughed but Chuck didn't. He found nothing funny in the situation at all and he said so.

"I'm so glad you can find the humor in this situation. Personally, I find the idea of one important person in my life killing the other important person fucking sick."

He stood up and almost dumped Tina on to the floor. He was as close to being in a rage as anyone could remember seeing him.

"But I keep forgetting whose company I've been forced to keep. I'm a fucking lamb among hungry wolves discussing dinner. While you three sit around discussing your funniest kills I'll just go get some work done."

They could hear him slamming things around. He was pissed and none of them knew quite how to deal with a pissed off and very emotionally strung-out intersect.

"Tina, maybe you'd better go talk with him. He'll listen to you more than either of us two."

"No, that won't work. He knows that I played him since the first second I laid eyes on him. He knows that everything I did and said was for my mission. He won't trust me again for a long time, if ever. I've lost any chance with him. He is too special to be alone for long. Ellie will find him someone. I just don't know how he'll explain my absence. He was so happy. Sarah, you were right. Another woman he let in has betrayed him."

"Casey…"

"No. No way. I have no point of reference for this. I warned him about getting too close, about trusting and feeling but he didn't listen. He's not like us; he has no training, no experience and no defense against what we do to him in the name of the Greater Good. That leaves you, Sarah. You've known him the longest but you've probably hurt him the most often so he should be used to it coming from you."

"Casey, that's a shitty thing to say. I was just doing my job, just like Tina. Maybe if we give him some time and space he'll calm down and think it through. He's pretty good at assessing things after the fact. He'll come around in time. Meanwhile we just have to keep an eye on him. This has been a tremendous strain on him."

Chuck muted the monitor. He felt ashamed to be eavesdropping, but what he'd learned was both critical to his future actions as well as informative as to the 'whys' of past events. Now he understood.

Of his handlers and his new little 'friend', John Casey was the most steadfast and honest. He'd told Chuck once, 'don't let them get close to you Chuck, they only want to get close so that when they shit on you, they won't miss.' He'd meant government operatives but something in his tone told Chuck he meant women.

He was just a job to them, a task to be handled, a requirement to be satisfied, and duty to be performed.

* * *

He transmitted the newest version of his Mutated AI Crawler v3.0 to General Beckman. He included a request for an immediate conference. He had a proposal to discuss and promises to keep. Chuck Bartowski never broke his word.

"Good morning, Mr. Bartowski. I've forwarded your new update over to the Tweedle brothers. I've read and approved your requests for current team reassignments." She paused and looked at him. "Are you certain this is the way you want to play things out? Surely in time things out there will…"

"I'm sure, General. Right now I want a vacation as outlined. Your NSA boys can come with me, shadow me, hell, I'd like the company. Just don't ask me to trust any of you again. I'll do my duty for the country, but I won't trust it. If that seems paranoid, understand that I have reason enough for my feelings. Just have them pick me up and we'll move on. OK, General Beckman?"

"They'll be there in ten minutes, Mr. Bartowski. And again, welcome to the NSA, Agent."

Chuck terminated the conference feed and left the Castle for what he sincerely hoped was the last time. Too many memories and none of them good.

Bryce Larkin lay on his stomach, the rifle sighted onto the exit from the building housing the Castle. He knew it would only be a matter of time until Bartowski emerged. He had seen the Porsche drive up but had been shocked when the Terminator unit had gotten out of the driver's side. Sarah Walker never allowed anyone to drive her Porsche.

He'd been even more shocked when Casey emerged, ran to the Porsche and carried Sarah back in the Castle entrance.

He maintained his position. The vomiting had subsided. Just his luck to come back in time and catch the flu. It wouldn't save Professor Bartowski. Nothing would. The 30 yard path of the bullet guaranteed a kill shot.

**Castle Detention Area**

The cell phone trilled alerting Casey to an incoming conference with General Beckman.

"Got an immediate with the General. Tina, you may as well come along. I'm sure Chuck will want to introduce you to the General. That should be interesting to watch."

Casey cued the conference and then looked around for Chuck.

"Where's Bartowski?"

The General answered his question "He's awaiting a retrieval pick up on the surface. His whereabouts are no longer any of _your_ concern." The contempt in her voice was unmistakable.

She stared at them out of the screen for perhaps 2 seconds before speaking again.

"He asked for some vacation time before forming his new team and I've gladly granted him time off at a secure location – above ground. Bartowski requested that the existing Team be dissolved and, for having suffered his presence with such professionalism, each of you, including you, 'his Toaster Oven', be given plum new assignments. Why he even cares what happens to any of you is beyond my comprehension."

"Major, excuse me, Lieutenant Colonel Casey, you and Agent-in-Training Tina Toaster will be partnered during her orientation and evaluation period. Further assignments will depend on her performance. She will be with you, Colonel, helping you keep that famous temper of yours in check." There was the ghost of a smile on her face. Bartowski had hit that one out of the park.

"Agent Walker, you will be returned to CIA control with the understanding that you will be joining Bryce Larkin in Peru for a continuation of your deep-cover relationship, excuse me, _partnership_. However, since Larkin is currently in our hospital facility in Lima suffering from some local and unexplained malady, your 'reunion' will have to wait until he's returned to duty."

"You're dismissed. Colonel, a moment, please."

Sarah and Tina walked back to the detention area, resuming their previous positions. Tina looked thoughtful but Walker was on the verge of tears, whether from anger or sadness was yet to be determined.

"So, John, is it really as bad as Bartowski described in his email? He no longer trusts either of the women? Can it be saved or is this truly the end of the most effective team in the NSA?"

"General, Tina was following her programming just like a human agent would do. Seduction is one of the tools of the trade. Bartowski just fell hook, line and toaster for her. I was surprised because I thought he'd never give up on Walker but apparently she pushed him away one time too many and he finally gave up. He's a genius with brainwork but an absolute idiot when it comes to women. Too open, too trusting, too damned _nice_."

"What's your overall evaluation, Colonel?"

"It can be saved. It should be saved. Give him time to cool down, decompress. He's been burning the candle at both ends. Vacation is an excellent idea. He'll eventually accept Tina as a friend. He'll be wary until she proves herself. But they'll be all right. As for Walker…General she absolutely hates Bryce Larkin. She has history with him but that's all it is, history. I bugged Walker's Porsche. She's gone on your boy, General, told the terminator that earlier when she was trying to keep Chuck alive. Give them time and they'll connect. Just, please, relieve me of surveillance when that happens."

"I agree. I think time may heal this rift. You'll have your hands full with your new partner, so consider the surveillance duties lifted for all. Beckman out."

**Castle Detention Area**

Sarah Walker felt the tears running down her cheeks but did nothing to staunch them. She didn't care what anyone thought, not any more. Her One was waiting for retrieval that would take him away from her forever and he needed to know the truth. She needed to tell him and he needed to hear it. What he did after he heard her confession was out of her hands.

"Tina, I have to talk to Chuck. I'm going up. Can you keep Casey occupied? I don't want any thing to get in my way."

"Sarah, haul ass. I have your back. Leave the Gene…I mean the Colonel to me. It's been a while but I have a feeling he's the same in any reality. Go on, don't miss your chance."

Walker ran from the detention area and was up the stairs and out of the door before Casey could react. He had no intention of obstructing her. He'd heard everything. Chuck had been monitoring the area. He had heard everything they'd said earlier. Everything.

He flipped the monitors to the surface surveillance cameras and called Tina to join him. "Hey, bionic Barbie, get in here and watch the show." He chuckled. He sounded more and more like Bartowski sometimes, well, occasionally.

**Parking Lot**

Sarah lunged out the door and saw Chuck leaning back against the hood of the Herder, his ride just entering the parking lot, a typical black SUV with tinted windows. He straightened up as the vehicle stopped about 10 yards from him. He walked towards the SUV when he heard Sarah Walker shout "Stop right there, Bartowski, I'm not finished with you yet!"

Chuck had just given the code phrase to the agent who'd emerged from the vehicle and was holding open the door for him. He heard Walker yelling something but he had no idea what since he was concentrating on the response to his challenge. He heard the response and started closing the remaining 5 yards to the vehicle.

"Damn you, Chuck Bartowski. How can you just throw me away like that? How can you not see that I love you, damn it! I hate Bryce Larkin from what he's done to you. I love you, you silly man. Don't leave me, Chuck. I need you." She stopped walking after him. It was all up to him now.

Bryce Larkin perked up when he saw Sarah running towards the Professor. Perfect. She'd see the culmination of her plan first hand. Then they'd head for someplace off the grid and begin their life together as planned. He had a perfect shot.

She loved him? She needed him? He turned to her, a big smile on his face that turned to surprise when the bullet fired from Larkin's rifle impacted his chest, high and on the left hand side, almost to the shoulder joint.

He fell back into the arms of the Agent who'd been holding the door and he, in turn, threw Chuck's body into the SUV and climbed in after him. He slammed the door and the SUV spun out and roared away.

Sarah spun toward the sound of the shot and saw a man on the roof of a building holding a rifle and yelling "He's dead, Sarah, we're free." She couldn't tell who the older man was from this distance but she'd know as soon as his bullet–riddled body hit the parking lot. She fired her entire magazine and didn't miss once.

"Oh, shit. Little bit, let's go." He was already running for the stairs when Tina flew by him and was out the door.

The terminator did not stop until she reached the still-breathing assassin of her ugly bag of water. "No, not you. You bastard!" She reached down and with her enhanced terminator strength plunged her hand into his chest and ripped his heart out and held it up for him to see. It was the last thing he saw as she squeezed it into pulp and threw it in his face.

Casey lumbered to a halt beside Walker who was still in her firing stance. "Walker, come on, let's follow them. We need to follow them, Sarah. Damn it, Walker, they've got Chuck!"

That phrase shook her out of her fugue. Tina ran past them and jumped into Sarah's Porsche and started it up. "You guys coming or not?" she cried. The two agents piled into the front seat and the Porsche tore off after the disappearing SUV. No one cared about the identity of the body of Chuck's killer. They were concerned about their teammate.

Casey called in the shooting and ordered a cleanup team. Then he called Beckman and advised her of the situation.

"General, the shooter is dead. We're pursuing the SUV that snatched Chuck after he was shot. We don't know if the challenge and passwords were correctly exchanged so we're assuming they're bad guys. We're in…"

"They're ours, Casey. Head for Cedars. You'll be met there at the loading dock. Facilities and staff are on alert. He's still alive but in shock and they're having trouble stopping the bleeding. Contact me ASAP with updates. Beckman out."

"You got that, Tina? Cedars-Sinai, loading dock. It's on"

"I got internal GPS, Colonel. I'm good to go. Nice shooting, Sarah. Very nice."

Sarah wasn't aware of much but she needed to know who it was that had been shouting her name from the rooftop. "Who was it? He knew me. Said I was free. Jesus, Tina, you ripped his heart out." That was news to Casey. He looked over and saw all the blood and bits on tissue on her hand, all the way up to mid-forearm. "You ripped his fucking heart out? Dear God, why?"

"Because it was Bryce Larkin. The Bryce Larkin from my up-time reality who followed me down-time. He killed Chuck. I can't believe he's still alive. He should be dead by now. Catastrophic cascade failure of his cellular stability. The son of a bitch couldn't die before he killed my ugly bag of water. He needed to be sure, the bastard. I wish I could follow him to hell and kill him again."

Casey was shocked at the level of emotion she was displaying. She was a machine but seemed so much more…human…than machine.

The ride to the hospital seemed to last forever. Sarah was replaying the scene in her mind over and over again. She told him she loved and needed him. He half-turned with that delighted smile when he hears good news and the smile coursed through to a look of surprise, then pain. He squeezed his eyes together tightly and his head rolled back on his shoulders and he fell back into the arms of the agent holding the door.

She could see it as it happened, she could slow it down, she could speed it up but she couldn't stop it from being the main feature on her mind. Not even her tears blurred the images nor did her closed eyes stop the horrible replays of what had happened.

**Cedars-Sinai Hospital**

Tina reefed the powerful sports car hard to the left and slid into the rear lot of the hospital. There was no doubt they were expected. Two of the standard-issue NSA guys were waiting for them as they left the car and run up the stairs to the dock. Tina threw the keys to one of the agents and said, "Park it, carefully. Mind the blood on the steering wheel and shifter. Leave the keys under the floor mat, passenger side."

The other agent escorted them through a maze of pipes and corridors to a service elevator. Another NSA agent, this one covered in Bartowski's blood, met the elevator. Casey took in the scene and asked the agent "What's his status? Where is he now?"

"OR 3, the trauma team is all set, just waiting until he stabilizes. They're pumping in blood but it's coming out just as fast. A thoracic guy and a vascular guy are on call once the blood level is satisfactory. We got him here as quickly as possible. You guys get the bastard who shot him?"

"Yeah. It's his blood all over her. And Walker hit him with a full mag, not a miss. He's dead unless he can function without his heart. It's in pieces all over the parking lot. Don't piss off Agent-in-Training Toaster, here. You won't like what happens."

"Good. One our own goes down; it hit's you hard. He doesn't look much like an agent but Beckman said his security level is higher than Obama's so that says a lot. You guys his team?"

Tina spoke up for the first time. "Yes, he's our guy. We're his team. We're all he has left. I need to see him. Where is he? It's vital I speak with him. He _has_ to hear what I have to tell him."

"No can do. The docs are with him doing assessments and just waiting for his blood pressure to stabilize."

This got Walker's attention. She stepped up to the agent, invaded his personal space and whispered "I know you're doing your job and I can appreciate that and how difficult it is but if I don't get to tell him how much I love him and need him and he dies…"

There was no malice, no threat. It was an anguished soul speaking out. The agent did not hesitate. He took her by the upper arm and led her down the hall and into a treatment room. The trauma staff was working on the wound, trying to slow the pace of blood loss while nurses hung bags of blood and saline in preparation for use. The coppery smell of fresh blood was strong, masking the usual hospital smells.

"Go stand near his head, Agent. If you speak directly into his ear, well I've read that sometimes people hear what's said to them, even if they're unconscious. Don't waste this time, agent. He needs to know." Something like this must have happened to this agent. He had the teary-eyed far away look of someone who's been there.

"Thank you. I will never forget this."

She eased through the medical staff, taking up her position at the head of the gurney. She bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead and then whispered into his ear. "I love you, Chuck Bartowski. I need you. Never forget that. No matter what happens here and now, I'll always be yours, just yours. Now, you rest and let these people fix you up. I have plans for you, Chuck, plans for us. Please don't leave me but if you must, know that I love you, baby. Just you."

She straightened up and left the room. When she saw him again, she'd fall apart. For now, her team needed her to be strong. Her resolve lasted all of two minutes before she leaned against the wall, sagged down onto her butt and feet and cried quietly, her teammates standing on either side, sentinels to her sorrow.

A/N: Do not fret, Charahns. Soon hot & wet stuff.


	6. Excuses, Dreams, Blowouts and the Mall

Terminatrix6

A/N:_ All you cotton-candy charahns out there, this one is disgustingly for you.  
_

* * *

**Forest Lawn Cemetery**

**Los Angeles, CA**

As funerals go it was not well attended but some of that could be blamed on the weather. Who ever sang, "It never rains in Southern California" had never been there. The team was there, of course, all three huddled under umbrellas. So were Ellie and Devon, also under umbrellas. A scattering of agents took down the license numbers of anyone who drove too close to the burial site. Those unfortunates could expect visits from the FBI after routine background checks.

The service itself was a brief and obligatory saying of words followed by the dispersal of the attendees. There was no presentation of a national flag since the deceased was not officially in the service of the United States.

Neither Ellie nor her fiancé approached the team nor was there any indication of any attempts on their part to speak with the Bartowski-Woodcomb duo. Sarah Walker was not a welcome fixture and the confusion surrounding the one-night stand of a lifetime made Tina equally unapproachable.

When the team returned to the government-issued black SUV the only people remaining at the grave were those hired to fill it back up and resod the surface.

No one really cared. Are you surprised?  


* * *

**NSA/CIA Medical Facility**

**Los Angeles, CA**

"So, Chuck, you better be stocking up the zee's because you're not going to be getting much sleep when you finally out of here. I told you I have plans." Sarah Walker was holding his hand and once again marveling at the near-perfect fit. 'We were made for each other.' She had also given her hotel notice that she would be checking out and was looking for a garden or studio apartment for them in Venice or anyplace else near the beach. Like she said, she had plans. Now if he would just wake up…

Casey had run interference with Ellie and Devon giving them a crock about Chuck going to another store to run it as temporary manager and Tina going along with him to 'keep him company'. They wanted to believe anything that indicated Chuck was over Sarah and had moved on. The Toaster thought that was hilarious. Sarah did not, and told her so.

"You might have had his body for a bit, but I got long term ownership on all of him, including his soul, so you just keep your mechanical sex parts away from him. Go seduce Colonel Casey. Take handcuffs. He loves handcuffs."

Chuck's 'suggestions' regarding organization and possible covers had been adopted and modified by circumstance. Chuck and Casey would quit the BuyMore and open up a private security firm that planned and installed both alarms and computer security software and Chuck would offer computer security audits to solicit new business. Casey would also handle the 'rent-a-guard' security operation. It would be a perfect cover for infiltrating companies thought to have illegal activities or terrorist ties. Once the word was out, the phones wouldn't quit ringing. Someone suggested using Tina as a secretary/receptionist/first-line-of-defense and the suggestion was quickly and thankfully adopted. Casey thought it was a great utilization of staff. Chuck couldn't know and wouldn't have objected if he did know.

Lt. Col. [designate] John Casey was perturbed. He'd just received an update from the physician in charge of the team now assigned to Charles Bartowski and it had been less than satisfactory.

First up for discussion had been the medically induced coma. Why was it done and when would the patient be allowed to regain consciousness.

"Well, we're hoping that this will enable us to study his brain functions. He has an inordinate amount of activity that is anomalous with normal brain function. His theta wave activity for example…"

"Stop. You're keeping him this way so it's easier to study him?"

"Well, yes. We're hoping that if sufficient tests can be conducted we will be able to determine why he's having these pulsing waves of brain activity."

Oh, shit, he's flashing. "Doctor, suspend your tests, stop your drugs and allow him to regain consciousness normally. If you feel it's medically, repeat, medically necessary, leave him on the respirator. Do it now, Doctor, immediately after this meeting. You are dismissed."

Next came the surgeon who spoke in simple terms. "He's lucky to be alive. The bullet shattered his rib causing fragments to pierce his lung and severely compromised his breathing as well as creating a friggin' nightmare of bleeders. He ran right along the line between brain damage due to blood loss and healthy brain tissue. He lucked out and we kept enough blood in his system to prevent brain damage. The ortho guy did miraculous work and he will only have lost 10-15% mobility in his shoulder and that can be further reduced with good PT. The incisions and wound will heal nicely and stitches should be out in 6-10 days barring site infection."

Last was the "ortho guy" and he was equally blunt. "If the bullet had been a few millimeters above or below the rib, we would not be having this discussion. The patient would be dead. Be thankful for what you've got left. He kept the arm. 15 millimeters up and to the right and he'd have lost his arm at the shoulder. All in all, he's lucky. Let him wake up and get busy with the next 50 years of his life."

Two hours later and he still hadn't regained consciousness. John 'summoned' the head of the medical team again.

"Why isn't he awake yet, Doctor. Didn't you understand my instructions? I want him, I need him awake, right now. Can't you inject something to wake him the hell up? You seem able to keep him under."

"His theta waves are still in massive…"

"Cut the crap. Give him a drug and bring him around. National security. Do it or I'll replace you with someone who can and will follow instructions."

"General, he's not coming out of it naturally. Normally, an induced coma ends within hours of the cessation of drugs but it's been 48 hours and he's still in a coma and his theta waves indicate that he's flashing. I've run out of options here. Got any ideas? Maybe a specialist or someone who is a medical doctor and knows about the intersect?"

"I'll look into it. In the meantime, tell Agent Walker to pull out all the stops and see if somehow she can reach him. If he's flashing this continuously, we may have to consider other options, Colonel. A brain-damaged intersect won't do us any good."

"She said _what_?" Walker wanted to be sure.

"Pull out all the stops and reach him somehow. Sarah, if he's brain damaged or worse, you know what Beckman will do." 'And none of us want the kid lobotomized and dumped in some challenged ward in some filthy California mental institution.'

"Of course, Sarah, if you're not up to the challenge I'm sure his Toaster Oven would love to prove the superiority of cyborgs over us fleshies…" Casey stuck it in deep and then twisted. "You know she can just call on her reserves, like the energized bunny with the batteries reversed."

"Damn, you keep her in your bed, Casey, and away from Chuck. I gave her the handcuffs. Maybe _you_ should use them this time. You know, John, I've still got Carina's cell number for emergencies. Maybe she'd like to meet a toaster oven?"

John brightened noticeably. "You have Carina's number? Well, use it. If anyone can rouse the dead it's that girl. Why the tricks she can do with her…"

"Ouch, Jesus, woman, I have a need for those!"  


* * *

She stalked off down the corridor towards his room. 'All the stops? I can't even get him to even smile no matter how filthy my whispered limericks are. He used to love the one about 'There was a wench from Nantucket' but he didn't even crack a smile.'

She screwed up her courage and entered his room. The soft beeping of all the devices that had once been a soothing reminder that he was alive had become a nagging reminder that he wouldn't wake up. The 'hisssssss, plop' of the respirator now seemed an annoying reminder of his condition. Could he even breathe on his own?

She lay down beside him in the bed, careful not to dislodge or crimp any of the myriads of sensor wires, IV's, or electrodes. She considered her course of action. Modesty and possible discovery negated the obvious even though Casey had told her that the surveillance of team members was curtailed. She couldn't even try and wake her prince charming with a kiss since the damned respirator was in his mouth.

She put her head on his healthy shoulder and took his hand in hers. She'd been awake for more hours than she cared to think about and the stress of the past few days had really gotten to her. She drifted off to sleep after only a few minutes.

Chuck felt like he was clawing his way up a long, dark, water-filled shaft and he was running out of breath. His lungs were burning and he knew that he would soon have to take a breath and the light at the end of his quest was getting dim. He needed the light to guide him since it was blacker that the inside of a woman's heart and without it he could easily stray off the path.

The pressure to exhale was his body's attempt to rid itself of carbon dioxide. The will to survive soon overrode his common sense and he inhaled only to find his damned lungs had other ideas and were trying to exhale. This conflict between brain saying "INHALE idiot, we need to oxygenate the hemoglobin" and the body shouting "EXHALE idiot, you're poisoning us with your waste gas products" caused near-convulsive responses.

A flailing limb smacking her across the face abruptly awakened Sarah Walker. She responded instinctively and grabbed the offending limb and twisted it in preparation for some hand-to-hand maneuver when her forebrain caught up with her monkey brain and screamed "He's awake and in trouble, idiot, get a doctor".

Still not totally awake but relying on the training and situational awareness of an experienced agent, she hammered the crap out of the large red round button on the wall. The one that everyone knew was either a klaxon warning that life was slipping away or the 'oh, crap' that something was wrong and life was fighting on and could use a little assistance from the overpaid and overindulged medical community.

Her task completed and now finding herself totally unable to do anything but stand in the corner and "get the hell away from him so we can do our jobs, Agent Walker," she fell back into that time-honored state of crying girlfriend watching helplessly as the man she loved…" well, complete it yourself.

Since Chuck Bartowski was the sole patient of the facility and since his team had been on standby since the assassination attempt by the evil up-time Bryce RatBastard Larkin behind the Castle, it was inevitable that his room would become the destination for Casey and the Toaster Oven.

The room was packed and a waiting line of people in scrubs had formed at the door waiting for their turn to take a whack at death. Casey and his companion could only stand and hear snatches of the babbling conversations from within the room.

"…away from him so we can do our jobs, Agent Walker… stable, normal sinus rhythms, …crash cart…remove the…watch the chest tube and drains, damn it…turn off that freaking alarm…endotrachial tube is out, check for clear airway…where's the blood coming from…ah, crap, someone get a suture kit ready, our boy's torn out his stitches…"

Not comforting conversations at all. Casey looked at his companion and didn't like what he saw. Biomechanical creatures, cyborgs, simulacrums, imitation humans, terminators, did not show fear. They were supposedly without emotion being the sum of their programs. Chuck had told him that Little Bit was different, that she was evolving, writing her own code (whatever the hell that Nerdspeak meant).

He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. She glanced up at him and smiled a tiny flicker of emotion and then gave his hand an answering squeeze. Casey marveled that the hand he knew had punched through Larkin's sternum and ripped his still-beating heart from his chest and then crushed it into unrecognizable pulp could be so soft and feminine and tiny.

He'd seen her hand when she'd driven the Porsche. Had seen where the skin had been torn and ripped by the bone and cartilage of Larkin's chest. He had seen the bright work of metal gleaming through the rents in her skin. And it didn't bother him as much as he thought it should. He knew it didn't bother him at all. And she'd grown new skin overnight and no one but him knew and he really didn't care.

So when he released her hand not wanting to take advantage and having no real reason to continue holding it, he was pleasantly surprised when she tightened her grip and held _his_ hand now.  


* * *

"So, General, that's it in a nutshell. He's out of the coma and sleeping naturally with no overt signs of any brain damage or theta activity. He'll probably sleep 12-14 hours and then we'll see."

"Excellent. We've completed the back-story for your agent-in-training. You might want to have her select another last name. 'Toaster' was just a convenient label. I'm sure she must have her own or at least a preference."

"Colonel, I've sent you a detailed packet outlining the cover for the new team as well as details on specific facets. You and Bartowski will have to come up with an explanation for why he's with her instead of the Toaster Oven. But that's your problem. Review and respond with your questions or concerns. Keep me posted on his condition daily. We need to get the team back in the game."  


* * *

He was asleep and then he wasn't. The transition was abrupt. Awareness had pounced on him, digging its claws into his shoulder and side, sharp teeth tugging at his side. Throbbing pain. Burning. Agony. And he felt like he couldn't get enough air in his lungs.

He screamed out 'pain' but made no sound. Maybe a whimper, not loud but indicative to anyone in the room that he was uncomfortable, to say the least. And he had no idea why he was in pain or where he was. His last memory was of seeing the 'vacation SUV' pull into the parking lot. Nothing else until now.

He fell back to sleep, still in pain.

He was discharged later in the week and a cab drove him to his apartment. Everything looked the same. The courtyard, the dry fountain, everything looked the same. Somehow he expected everything to be different. He was different, so logically, everything else should be different. But it wasn't.

He unlocked the door and sure enough, everything was the same. His room was the same. He was different. He disrobed, grabbed a change of underwear and headed for the shower.

The bandages had been removed with the admonition that he should take it easy until the stitches were removed in 7-10 days. He'd also been given a pill case with 2 pills, one blue and one white. "Mr. Bartowski, if you experience nausea, dizziness, vomiting, shortness of breath or any other physical conditions, take the white pill and call the facility immediately." He nodded his understanding. Simple.

"And if you start to feel a crushing pain in the chest, around the heart, take the Blue pill immediately. Do not delay. It will not get better, it will only get worse. Take the Blue pill, Mr. Bartowski."

The shower felt relaxing. The hot water pulsed over him, relaxing tense muscles. It was ok to get the stitches wet. He didn't have to worry since he was required to change dressings daily.

"Wash my hair, my ugly bag of water." The pain in his chest bloomed and he couldn't catch his breath. He stumbled out of the shower and back to his room and took the Blue pill. He didn't have time to call the hospital before he died.

* * *

The EKG monitor at the nurse's station started to wail for a few seconds and then resumed it's normal repetition of quiet beeps. He slept on. The pain of the chest tube and incisions almost but not quite waking him.

Within a short time he'd had the dream or a variant for each of the women in his life, Tina, Jill, Lou and even Carina had made an appearance in his shower. And each time the pain was so intense that he didn't even consider the consequences. He welcomed his death, the escape from knowing that he'd been betrayed by women he'd let in, let get close. His mind was trying to tell him something. Four beautiful women, and he had made love to each of them except Carina and he knew, given _her_ absence, that if Carina appeared again he would add her to his list and take the damned Blue pill.

The final time he had the dream he opened the shower door and there stood Bryce Larkin with Sarah Walker in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist in the throes of orgasm.

"You never, ever, had a chance with her, Chuck. There's no way in hell she'd have chosen you over me. Look at me. Look at you. Look at her. I'm right. You had no chance, Chuckie boy."

He took the damned Blue pill. He understood. At last. And he slept, ignoring the pain of his incisions, ignoring everything. He didn't care if he awoke or not. He welcomed oblivion; in fact he yearned for it.

* * *

Sarah Walker had lost it when the crash team worked on Chuck. She'd retreated to a far corner of the room and begun to cry soundlessly after the first doctor told her to "get the hell away from him so we can do our jobs, Agent Walker."

She couldn't stop and finally just sat in the corner and cried. She cried for him and his pain, for herself and her inability to commit to him and she cried for all the pain she'd caused him as a result. And finally, she cried because she knew he didn't believe her in spite of that almost one second long smile before he was shot down. He arranged a reward for 'putting up with him'. He was sending her away, back to Bryce RatBastard Larkin where he thought she wanted to be.

He'd sent her to the mall with Tina not as a second chance but as means of setting his trap for the terminator.

She wasn't hysterical; she just couldn't stop crying, for him, for her, for them. Finally a doctor gave her a sedative and Casey had put her to bed in the room next to Chuck's. She slept 18 hours straight before waking enough to realize she had things to do to fix this problem.

She took a shower and put on her Chuck seduction outfit. A t-shirt she'd stolen from him on a cover sleepover and a pair of boxer shorts. She brushed her teeth and hair, going without make up and strolled to his room. He was still asleep.

She crawled in beside him, careful of all the nasty tubes, wires and IV's and settled herself against his length. She sat up abruptly. He was bathed in sweat and had that pinched look around his eyes that said he was in pain. She leaped from the bed and stomped out of the room and grabbed the first man in a white coat she came upon.

"Are you a doctor in this abattoir?" She was loud but not quite shouting. Just loud. Very loud.

"Yes, and you are…?" He looked at her attire and then made the enormous and life altering comment. "Oh, you're the shooting victim's girlfriend who went all hysterical."

She reached for one of her knives but realized her original intent had not been violence with Chuck. Instead she snatched a pen from his coat pocket and thrust it against his eyeball.

"The man is in pain. He's bathed in sweat and has a look I recognize from past experience. Now, I'm AGENT Walker who happens to be his girlfriend and if you want to continue to be anything other than dead, you will examine him and you will provide him with pain relief or I will insert this pen into your eye and kill you. Got it?"

She hadn't realized it but she'd been getting louder and louder until everyone in the facility knew who she was, what she was and what she'd do to someone if he didn't get her boyfriend some pain relief. Casey had walked out into the hall and listened, a grin widening on his face. Tina had followed him, curious, and now was gaping at Agent I'm Going To Kill You Walker threatening the doctor with death.

"Don't get ideas about Chuck, Tina. You'd be toasted in your own oven if you did."

* * *

The doctor had brought in and hooked up a device to allow the patient to self-medicate. Until he actually was awake enough to have it explained to him and to use it, he was on a light Demerol drip. It wouldn't be enough to prevent him from waking naturally but would enable him to reach a more restful level of sleep. The doctor was confident he'd awaken and remain awake before the end of the day.

Two nurses came in and changed the sheets. After a quick bed bath and a change of gown the two left Sarah and Sleeping Prince Charming alone. No one had said a word.

_Everyone_ had heard about the blonde Agent and her threats against the least popular doctor on the staff. Most would have cheered her on if they hadn't been afraid of attracting her attention.

She flipped back the sheet, settled herself against his long lanky body and snuggled in for the long haul. She promised herself she would not move until she'd had his attention and straightened out this mess. She rested her head on his healthy shoulder and placed a hand on his heart. Finally, she was where she belonged at that moment in time. She covered them with the sheet and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And dozed off.

And thus missed her sleeping Prince Charming's return to the land of the conscious.

Chuck's Point of View

The pain isn't so bad now. More a dull ache. I tried opening my eyes but decided to just take stock of my physical condition. I know something bad has happened. I can hear the heart monitor, smell the disinfectant they tried to cover with vanilla-scented air freshener.

While the vanilla is a nice touch it reminds me too much of a certain blonde associate who is probably in Peru screwing the life out of her boyfriend and fellow agent, Bryce the RatBastard Larkin. She deserved happiness after babysitting me in the past.

At least one person in this recent vignette entitled 'The Life of Chuck' was happy. He hoped Toaster was pleased with her arrangements and that Casey was grunting approval at his new rank and posting. I don't think Casey will mind another tour with me. And besides, he might not know it yet, but he was about to become very involved in a certain pixie-like terminator. She obviously had a thing for him from up-time.

I can't move either arm. Am I in restraints? Had the retrieval team been Fulcrum? I'd never heard the counter sign phrase from the agent because Sarah Walker had been yelling at me. I can't remember what she said except that she was very angry about something. And then it all went away.

I opened my eyes and take stock of my situation.

I am semi-encased in Sarah Walker. It is the shampoo or conditioner that has lent the vanilla scent to my environment. I have no idea why she is here. Is she Fulcrum? Have we been captured together? She needs to be on her way to Bryce. It's what she wanted and needed. I've given her every chance but after hearing the conversations in the detention area I know exactly where I stand with her. I was her charge, her asset, her _job_, nothing more. She'd wasted enough of her life on me. She'd done her duty, kept me alive. Mission accomplished now get the hell out of here before something else bad happens to screw up my plan.

**Sarah's POV**

I can't believe I dozed off again. That sedative packed a punch. But I'm so comfortable here. I can feel his heart beating and it's strong and steady with no hint of arrhythmia like before. I'm very content and if I were a cat I'd be purring.

"Chuck Bartowski, please wake up. I need to see you're all right. I need to know that everything's going to be all right. I need you to know that…"

"Why are you here, Agent Walker? You've been relieved. I'm not your responsibility or job any longer. You're not my handler and there's no need for a cover. So, why are you here? Why am _I_ here? And where is 'here' anyways? Why aren't you on your way to Peru and the exciting deep cover assignment with Bryce? You didn't want to come here in the first place, Agent, so why are you still here?"

"_Here_ is a medical facility run by the NSA and CIA. You were shot waiting for your ride. The shooter is dead. You have a wound to the left upper chest, some lung damage, a broken rib and you have a drain tube running out of the left side of your chest between two ribs. It's temporary and will be removed tomorrow, probably."

"I am here because I choose to be. You never heard what I was trying to tell you before you were shot. I thought you would remember but I was wrong. You don't remember. So I'll tell you again."

"You are wrong. I do not love Bryce Larkin. I love Chuck Bartowski and I have since the first time I looked into your eyes. I've always known that you were my One but I was afraid. I used the job, the rules, anything, to keep you away. But you just kept battering away at my defenses. And every time you gained a little ground I pushed you away harder and further than before until finally you gave up."

"I won the battle but lost the war, Chuck. I lost you and I'm so very sorry I didn't just tell you how I felt right from the start but I'd have been reassigned and never would have seen you again."

"Now, I don't care. I'll quit the Agency, I'll take an analyst's position, and I don't care. Just please don't be over me. I couldn't take that. I am so jealous of you and that toaster I could just scream. Another damned brunette. Maybe I should just dye my hair and be done with it. Jill, Lou, the Tango Bitch, Tina, they are all brunettes, Chuck. I don't stand a chance, do I?

"Chuck? Chuck?"

**Chuck's POV**

She says she doesn't love Larkin but what about all the times they were together since we met? What about him staying over at her hotel when I made a colossal fool of myself with that stupid rose and dinner jacket? And "we'll always have Omaha?" What's up with that?

"Don't." It's all I can manage. I can't really talk right now. I don't know what to say. She'll quit the Agency? Bullshit, it's her _life_. Not me.

"Don't." I say again. My throat is dry and I feel like my mouth is full of sand. The pain has come roaring back and I'm really having trouble concentrating.

"Don't." I'm having trouble breathing, I can't breathe, I …

**Sarah's POV**

He said, "Don't". Don't what? Don't talk? Don't say I love him?

There, he's said it again. Just "Don't." What the hell is he trying to say? That I shouldn't quit the Agency? Shouldn't take an Analyst's position? What?

"Chuck? Chuck?"

I lean up and see immediately that he's having trouble breathing. His lips are cyanotic. There's blood staining his teeth. Something's terribly wrong. I roll out of bed and slap the shit out of the red Panic button. It's all I can do.

**6 hours later**

"So, we had a lung blow out. It's called a spontaneous pneumothorax. It happens. We don't know why but it does. He's damned lucky she was there or we wouldn't be having this conversation at all. He's back on the respirator for a bit, we want to give the lung plenty of time to begin healing itself. At first we feared a foreign object embolism, like a bullet fragment or a piece of bone but after examining the lung we're satisfied it'll hold up. Just no physical exertion for at least 2 weeks and no flying on any planes regardless of pressurization security for at least 3 months, preferably 6 months."

Casey absorbed all this. Walker was a basket case. This had happened during their first real opportunity to talk. Thank God she'd been there or Chuck wouldn't be alive. Now he just had to convince her of it. And get her to spend time with him. Her presence will help him.

"Walker, I need to talk with you, in private."

"Casey, I think I'd just better go. It's not going to happen. He kept saying, "don't" when I tried to explain my actions and feelings. Pretty explicit response, I'd say."

"Walker, unless you plan on resigning from the Agency, _this is your post for as long as necessary._ I can't believe I'm having this damned conversation with you. Get your head out of your ass and spend some time with him. You have a captive audience. Use it. Now, get out of here and quit feeling sorry for yourself."

She saw Tina coming out of Chuck's room. She needed some answers and she needed a friend right now. Maybe she'd find both.

"Hey, Toaster Oven, you got a sec?"

"I was just in with Chuck. He looks so bad. I don't know what I'd have done if it was me in there instead of you. You saved his life, Sarah, thank you for that."

"Hey, I saved _my_ life because _he _is my life. I just have to convince him of it but I just can't get past all the lies and bullshit we've told him. He values honesty above all else and when I'm honest as I can be he thinks 'same shit, different day' and I can't blame him."

"If you show him you really care, if you spend your time with him, if you just be there for him it will be all right. No one knows what he's thinking. He's very complex and sometimes we forget just how damned smart he is. Don't take his feelings lightly. He doesn't. You've hurt him how many times over the past? Now you have to heal him."

"I'd give you and Ellie-hug but I just don't like you. No, that's not true. I'm insanely jealous of you. You got more out of him in 24 hours than I've had in a year. And I'm not talking sex. Sure, it was your job, but tell me you didn't like it. You did, so don't deny it."

"Oh, no. My time with the ugly bag of water will always be a treasured file, but mostly it was just his kindness and his gentleness and his caring and his…"

"OK, OK, I get it. Jesus, give me a break here. I'm dying and you're reminiscing about how great my… I don't know, 'friend' is. Arggggh."

"Well, you asked. Get him to wash your hair, Sarah, then dry it and comb it. The feedback is incredible. And the sex. Oh, I overloaded multiple times in one session. In fact, every time we made love. You will be so happy with him. He is so…"

"Oh, God, I don't need to know you got off multiple times. All we've done is kissed and that was almost enough. You need to find another guy. How about Casey? He's… well, I've heard he's nice."

Sarah sat on a hard plastic chair beside his bed. She didn't have much choice. There were wires and tubes and shunts and bypasses and the whole respirator thing and then there were the IV's and the monitors and the suction devices. There was barely enough room for him let alone her. But she sat and when she was tired she went to the room beside his and then came back and sat some more. Finally, she could take no more.

"Casey, I've had it. This isn't what I signed on for. I'm going stir crazy listening to that respirator, the sucking gizmo, the clicking of the meters and the shhhhh of the EKG. Find something for me to do until he regains consciousness. I'm doing nothing but sitting. And thinking. And that's not good for a blonde. I mean, oh, shit, I'm so bored."

"It's only been 3 days. But if you really want to do something, take the toaster to the range and run through all the weapons with her. Then gauge her hand-to-hand and run her through the alley. Her reaction times are probably off the charts but it's her judgment we need to assess. I'll check on him hourly while you're gone. Then maybe head over to the mall. You never made it the last time. Oh, get her to tell you about her first shopping experience with Chuck. You will learn a lot about him and what he expects. Go. He'll be fine."

"Hey, Toaster, get your shopping clothes in a bag. We're going to the range to do some reaction drills. If you're good, we'll take that shopping trip and you can tell me how Chuck shops."

She was that good. A little shaky in some judgment calls but over all damned good. So, true to her word, they hit the mall. They went to the Rodeo Drive mall, not wanting to chance running into Ellie or someone they knew in Burbank.

"So, Casey said I'd enjoy hearing about your shopping trip with Chuck the night you arrived?"

"Ok, but promise me you'll never tell Chuck I told you. It was supposed to be our special time and it was but now you'll need to know some things I observed."

She told Sarah about how he looked everything over, answered her questions, made a few suggestions, explained why some things were just not appropriate and basically confirmed her judgment that Chuck knew zip about women but could please the hell out of them instinctively.

"He said he'd let me pick out my own undies and he wandered off to look at purses. Well, I just walked around until I saw him at a counter and said 'what do you think, Chuck?' Sarah, he look so cute when I came out in the thong."

'You walked around Victoria's Secret wearing nothing but a thong? Oh, my God, poor Chuck. I'll bet his jeans got uncomfortable after that."

"Not for long, Sarah."

That ended the shopping trip and almost ended their budding friendship. A jealous Sarah was not a nice Sarah.

"Ground rules, Toaster. If I stay, no more talking about Chuck and you in the sack or shower or on the kitchen table or in the Herder or his closet or the Castle steps. No more."

"You left out a couple places so are those alright to bring up? The detention cell, Ellie's bed, Devon's car, ah, the…"

"Enough. No more. Yes, none of the places you screwed in. None."

"Ok, Sarah, but you better understand, Chuck Bartowski does not screw… he makes passionate and caring love to his woman. Sometimes I wish I were _not _fully functional. I really miss when he did that thing with his tong…"

"NO MORE!!"

End of the fluffy muffin session


	7. Players Playing and Played

Terminatrix7

A/N: This is the final chapter. It twists and turns and goes from bubble gum to serious stuff. Some may like it and some may hate it but it's what comes out of the characters for me.  


* * *

NSA/CIA Medical Facility

On the 5th day the doctors took him off the respirator and injected drugs into his IV port to allow him to transit from induced coma to normal unconsciousness to sleep. For Sarah Walker it had been 3 days of boredom and 3 of anguish. She'd spent as much of her time with him as possible. She read to him. She told him stories of her earlier life, before the CIA, she told him how much she loved him and how she had definite plans for them at least in the immediate future. And she cried a lot. She cried because she did not see herself in any of her planned futures. She'd given up all hope and now was just going through the motions. Finally she just left him. She got in her Porsche and went for a drive. Maybe some ocean air and high-speed winds would cleanse her spirits. If she'd only waited 20 more minutes. But she hadn't.

Casey had curtailed all monitoring. He didn't care what Beckman thought. Too much information, emotion and heartache were not good for his psyche. He was having problems keeping the terminator at bay. So he didn't know that Sarah Walker had taken leave of her senses and building.

Tina told him all she knew about up-time Sarah and Chuck. It really wasn't relevant to the here and now but there were surprising bits of information that showed what a future Chuck and Casey would be like. Both were amazingly resilient and had maintained their same strong core values, even in different realities.

The other issue was the terminator. Casey found himself forgetting that she was a construct, a machine whose sole purpose was to destroy human beings in any way possible, to terminate the entire species as a plague upon the planet ruled by SkyNet. Intellectually, he knew she was a talking clock, a toaster oven, a computer with legs and apparent emotions, a robot, a cyborg, a terminator. It was emotionally that he was having his crisis.

She was a delight to be around. She answered his questions truthfully and fully, sometimes too truthfully and almost always too fully. There were some things he didn't believe anyone should know but she didn't know that and answered every question in the same manner. She was beautiful, with dancing eyes and brown hair that hinted at blonde highlights in the sun. His thoughts kept him from meeting her eyes.

She was brutally frank with him about all things. She told him directly and without remorse that in the up-time he had been her secondary target and that she would have terminated him without a second thought had it not been for the rape camps Larkin had established as a relief for frustrated human troops who daily faced the horrors of personal extinction. There was probably more, but that was enough.

Finally, on the day after Chuck was removed from the respirator she asked Casey the question. Several questions.

"Colonel, am I now that repulsive to you that you will not meet my eyes? Is what I am such an abomination that you cannot abide my touch? Would you rather I simply disappear and wait for my power source to expend itself and become a brief flash of light and heat and then be no more?"

"No, oh, Tina, no. It's just that, well, I don't do well with women. They say I'm too emotionally closed off. I am. Closed off, I mean. It's not easy having ready emotions in my job. I'm a terminator, too, in this time. We are alike but you are so very alive. I don't think" and she put her fingers on his lips stopping his 'long, prepared speech'.

"We are alike. So why shouldn't we be together? We need each other. We are the missing halves, the human half and the machine half. Some would say you are the machine and I the human. What do we care? I have missed you, John. I have missed my General. Please?"

Chuck Bartowski was awake. He catalogued his status even though his eyes were closed. No scent of vanilla mixed in with the disinfectant, just straight hospital stench. He could move his arms so he was not in restraints or Sarah was not in the room. She would not have left him alone so someone else must be here. His GSW itched but didn't ache so he knew some time had passed. He wasn't quite sure what had happened this time. They were talking and he couldn't breathe and then, well, he thought he'd died. But apparently he hadn't.

He opened his eyes and saw he was alone. Just him and the machinery. He picked up the sheet and saw the chest tube and shunts and knew it was his lung again. He also saw the damned Foley catheter and knew what that meant. He'd been unconscious for a very long time. Well, shit.

He looked around and saw his trusty shoot-up-with-the-good-stuff button had been taped to his hand so all he had to do was squeeze his hand or push against the mattress and he'd be flooded with the good stuff. He also saw the call button. As much as he wanted to feel good he needed information more.

Since he was the only patient his room became Grand Central Station. Everyone he knew from the Castle mission and some doctors and staff he recognized from his previous moments of consciousness were there. All except a certain blonde. He sighed. Must have been a dream. He _knew_ she'd been reading to him, talking to him, crying to him. It must have been the drugs. She'd apparently opted for Peru after all. He wasn't certain what memories were real and which were fabrications of his own selfishness. Now he knew.

Casey looked around the room. No Walker. He'd awakened alone again. He squeezed Tina's hand and nodded toward Chuck and released he hand. Mentally he said "Go see him, he needs you."

"Hey, ugly bad of water, you scared the crap out of us. Really bad form almost dying on your ladylove. Good thing she was here, ugly bag, or you would have died, drowned in your own blood. Kinda poetic, don't ya think?"

"Where is she? On her way to Peru? I thought I heard her talking to me while I was out of it…well, it doesn't matter what I thought. How you and the colonel getting along? And don't lie to me. I don't leave hickies on girls' necks."

"Chuck, I don't know where she is. She left sometime this morning or early afternoon. We weren't sure when you'd come back to us. And as for me and John, well, what can I say? He's my General from my reality but so much less bitter and closed-off. You don't mind, do you? We both thought you and Sar."

"No, no, I don't mind. I'm happy for you, Toaster Oven. I'll always be a little bit in love with you so don't mind me if I start shooting the Colonel dirty smirks from time to time. And how can another human being be more closed-off than Casey of this reality? I mean, my God…"

She laughed but felt the uncomfortable stirring of guilt. Something that wasn't in her programs. She hadn't ever wanted to hurt Chuck. But she had. And she knew that he had automatically forgiven her and wanted to see her happy. And if she could be happy, she was.

Where the hell was Sarah Walker? He was so vulnerable now thinking she'd left him and gone on with this reality's Bryce Larkin. Tina vowed that if that were the truth she would hunt them both down and kill them.

Casey had called Walker's cell when they got word he was awake but it went straight to voicemail. He had a feeling she was at the beach. Their beach. She needed to be here, damn it, here, and right now. Casey was furious with her. She'd left without word leaving Chuck alone. A no-no even in a CIA/NSA facility. Especially not when he's unconscious.

He called her again and this time there was no mistaking the anger in his voice. "Sarah Walker, get your selfish, self-pitying ass back to the facility immediately. You left without word, destination or notice. You left him alone. And now he's awake and very much aware of all the wrong damned things. He heard you talking to him, telling him secrets, but he thinks it was just his own selfishness projecting on his unconscious mind."

"You may have screwed the pooch on this one, Walker. And God help you and Larkin if you're on your way to Peru. You're both walking dead. There'll be an angry terminator in both your futures. And she's pissed at you all ready."

**Sarah at the Beach**

I knew I'd end up here at our beach. I have so many good memories about this place. I first made real contact with him here. I asked him to trust me here. I _played_ him here. OK, so that's not a good memory. But I've learned lately that good and bad are always together. I love the idiot. He's an idiot to think I'd ever leave him for the RatBastard. I killed the up-time Bryce. I won't have any qualms about doing the same to this Bryce if it's a choice between Chuck and him.

I want a life with him. Babies. Two at least. I'm no spring chicken so they'll come close after the wedding. And I want to get married right here on this spot. A few friends and that's it. Tina can be my maid of honor. Casey can be best man. Maybe Morgan but then that means Ellie will find out and the shit will hit the fan. Definitely Casey.

If not here, then Vegas. Tina will love Vegas. I'll bet she can count cards. She can pay for the honeymoon with her talents. But mostly I just want to know that I've got him. That he's mine and no one can ever take him away from me. I'll be his as long as I live.

He's never been a job. That's my public persona talking. He's always been my Chuck, the one I come home to at night in my dreams, the one I fight with, the one I nag to get a hair cut, the one I…

Ah, shit. Agents don't cry. Agents don't feel. I'm a CIA Agent and I do both of those. Which am I? Which one will let me realize my dream? Not the CIA. Decision made. I quit. We'll figure something out together.

I'm going back and get started on the rest of our lives. Screw Beckman and anyone else. I will have my cake and eat him er it too. God, Chuck, you make me so horny.

**NSA/CIA Medical Facility  
**90 minutes later

Sarah Walker strolled down the hall and into Chuck's room. She saw he was still asleep and that all the tubes and wires were now history. Good. Nothing between him and me but sweat. She turned and locked the door and checked that the red light on the CCTV was out. Good. Casey's still keeping it down. Wonderful.

She stripped everything off. Just left on the necklace he'd given her for their cover Valentine's Day date. He had no idea how much it meant to her. She wore as often as the job and cover allowed.

She pulled back the sheet and slipped in beside him. She stretched her entire naked body down his side, rested her head on his shoulder and just watched him breathe. When she was sure he was still asleep she started talking to him.

"Hi, Chuck, my name is…"

There was that damned dream voice again. Her voice and it was telling him who she was, where and when she was born, all about growing up and then joining the CIA. She said there were some things she would never tell him because he was a good man with a strong moral compass and she knew he'd hate her for what she'd done in the name of the greater good. She finally brought her story up to the present time.

"and so, sitting there on our beach I decided that the CIA would have to do without the services on one Sarah Walker because I intend to get married and knocked up as soon as you're in shape to perform the tasks and I don't care which one comes first. And you're never, ever allowed to wash Tina's hair again unless you open a beauty salon. No more sandwiches at Lou's. Besides they're not good for you. I want to get married on our beach or in Vegas. Tina can be Maid of Honor and Casey can be your best man. I love you and I know you love me. So, wake up and ask me to marry you so I can scratch this off my To Do list. Please, Chuck, wake up and ask me. Please?"

**Chuck's POV**

The scent of Vanilla fills my nostrils and I am definitely awake. I've been awake since 'name is…' and that's been a real battle since she's lying on the hand that triggers the Demerol drip. The same as last time. Kept trying to tell her 'don't lay on my hand' but she either couldn't hear me or couldn't understand me. I figured she was just playing me. There was a lot in her voice and her narrative that told me Bryce was still her main man mentally despite her protestations. I mean, really? Secret Agent Man vs. BuyMoreMan? No contest. That was the last time though. This time, well, she was different.

Thank God someone must have adjusted the dosage because this time I was able to remain awake, just on the brink of sleep the whole time. I love Demerol. Drug of choice for GSW victims. Of course all that naked warm skin rubbing against me has helped a whole lot too. Bless whoever removed the Foley catheter. I'm gonna need that soon, I hope.

Married? Somehow, I guess if I'm going to be with Sarah Walker it would have to be married. It didn't work well for my folks (and now I know why) and I haven't seen a lot of success stories around town but then this is California where partners and underwear get changed almost as frequently.

The beach is nice but Vegas has a certain appeal to me. I go to the beach all the time and if, repeat to my self several times, if things went typically California, I'd hate to lose my favorite spot for thinking and drinking because it would dredge up too many negatives. Let's face it, I know that there's no way she'll ever kiss the CIA off. She might tell herself that but I think she knows she's still on her original mission.

Besides, a lot of what she told me didn't flick a flash. Most did, but some of the hairier stuff, nope, nothing, sfechula, nada. So I have to wonder, was the info sanitized for my consumption or was it a lie? Is she playing me, again? It's not like she doesn't have a history of it. _Does __**she**__ really want to get married?_ Or is this just a continuation of the deep cover? And was the Blue Pill my subconscious warning me that my relationships with women cause heartbreak and that maybe _this_ one will cause my death?

While I was under after being shot I'd been caught in a flash that wouldn't stop. I don't know whether it was because of the trauma or drugs but I know I flashed for a long time.

I flashed on files that were older than dirt. Files that formed 'test databases'.

I found my father. He was a CIA 'asset'. My father was the lead scientist on the original architecture project that became the intersect. I found my mother. She was his handler. I know why she left. Her assignment was over. Now I know why there are no pictures of my parents together, or even a single picture of my mother anywhere in our stuff. Can you say "NSA Cleaner Team"? My dad's in a bunker or dead. Her children were just collateral damage issues.

And I found the files on me. All of them. Agent Sarah Walker's original brief and assignment summaries from Director Arthur Graham offering the assignment to Sarah Walker with the clear understanding that if I was the 'real deal' she would be accepting permanent posting as my handler and any and all means were authorized to secure my cooperation. Including marriage and children. All for the damned Greater Good.

Now the question for me is 'do I love her? Do I want to spend whatever time we're allowed married to her? Do I want to bring children into such a relationship?

Yes, I love her more than I love my life, and yes, I want to marry her and will take my vows seriously. There is only one private reservation. There will never be any children in our marriage. I will not create pawns or hostages for anyone to use against me to do something that would violate my moral compass even for the Greater Good as long as this abomination is in my head.

It's my Blue Pill.

Well, it's S_howtime._

"Sa-rah." Tongue is thick and not cooperating worth a damn.

**Sarah POV**

"It's me Chuck, it's Sarah, please wake up for me."

"Get… get off…"

Oh, God, he's throwing me out. He's over me and he's throwing me out.

"Please, get… off my… hand."

I roll off the bed. Tears welling in my eyes, standing there in all my naked glory and he wants me off his … hand?

I hear him sigh. He holds up his hand and I see that someone has taped the self-medicator to his hand.

"Pease, wait so seepy. Vegas ok. Love"

Holy shit, I've been juicing him with Demerol and he's been trying to wake up. I lay in the same place last time. Oh, shit all this for nothing. He wasn't throwing me out, he was telling me I was drugging him and he couldn't stay awake.

I started laughing and crying and I crawled back in beside him, carefully putting his doping hand on his chest. I wonder how long he'll sleep this time. Poor baby must have been fighting off the juice the whole time I was talking. He loves me. We're getting married.

* * *

**2 hours later**

Tina was notified of elevated levels of blood pressure and respiration by Chuck's nanites. When she realized that he was in medical crisis she had injected some of her nanites into his IV port. If she'd been a few minutes later, Sarah Walker would have walked in on her.

Now she'd always know the location and condition of her first love thanks to these self-replicating little buggers. She would not be helpless as she would have been had Sarah not been in the room with him when his lung blew out.

They'd implant themselves in strategic organs and locations insuring health and long life. If a dangerous physical status was reached, she'd be automatically notified and if possible intervene. Apparently Chuck was awake and _**WHOA** _she forgot to eliminate biofeedback from the nanites and the orgasm rocked her world. She went into reset mode where Casey found her crumpled on the floor wearing the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her face.  


* * *

**New Intersect Facility - Los Angeles**

Sarah Bartowski had never watched her husband go through a download session.

Of course, she'd seen Chuck, the intersect, go through a download session but this was different. This was her _husband_. She knew intellectually that he would be fine. He'd done it monthly since their marriage, sometimes twice monthly. But she had never witnessed it before. He'd always carefully scheduled it when she was either out of the building or otherwise occupied.

She was still a CIA agent. Chuck had left it up to her and she wanted to stay part of the team. If she ever got pregnant, she'd reevaluate her status.

Now, however, she sat in a control room on the other side of a glass partition. The lights were dimmed so that one could just barely make out the chair and the occupant waiting for the procedure to begin. A large projector was set up in front of Chuck. It reminded Sarah of one of the old TV cameras you used to see in the movies. It was lowered until it was at eye-level to Chuck. He had his head in a bracing frame to eliminate any possibility of movement. A tech had put drops into Chuck's eyes to dilate the pupils to increase the aperture and reduce actual download time. All very professional and all very by the book.

Sarah was unnerved by all the preparations but the final act that made her leave the room was when the technician put a mouthpiece in Chuck's mouth to prevent him swallowing his tongue in case of a convulsion.

In case something went wrong.

* * *

Big blonde bad-assed CIA agent was now leaning against the corridor wall hugging herself tightly and wondering for the umpteenth time why she'd ever taken this assignment.

Tina walked over to her and handed her a cup of coffee. "It'll be alright. He's done it before. It's a little like watching someone get tortured, all strapped down and restrained, but it's for his protection. He knows that. You know that. But it still rattles your cage and that's the way it should be. So don't feel bad just because you can't watch. Trust me, he understands."

Yes, Chuck understands. But he doesn't _know_. He doesn't know that I've violated protocol. I've fallen in love with my asset. That I love my _husband_. That I've loved him since the first time I looked into his eyes. I've been playing him, yes, but more importantly, I've been playing the CIA/NSA combine.

Apparently in up-time, Professor Bartowski had spoken quite openly of his wife's 'commitment'.

She'd confronted me with her knowledge in Vegas. I'd been married all of 15 minutes and she took me aside for 'girly moments' and told me she knew everything. And that she wouldn't hesitate for one second to tell him – after she'd killed me.

So when the order comes, he and I, along with Tina and her husband, Casey, will go off the grid. We've made preparations. Who would have thought that the one thing I was most jealous of would already know our situation and would commit to helping us avoid the government assets?

After all, she was the terminator. And he was still her One, her ugly bag of water.

Endit


End file.
